


Mass Effect: Human Revolution - Book 2 - The Masque of the Black Queen

by IgnusDei



Series: Mass Effect: Human Revolution [2]
Category: Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 85,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21831334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnusDei/pseuds/IgnusDei
Summary: Cryogenically-preserved cyborg turned C-Sec Detective Adam Jensen has successfully solved the murder of Commander Shepard, but in doing so has uncovered a link to a greater conspiracy that threatens to plunge the entire galaxy into war. In pursuit of those responsible, he is forced to join forces with the brilliant and erratic head of DARPA, Colonel Edgar Hein, and his rag-tag squad of traumatized veterans, the DEEP EYES.For his first mission with DARPA, Adam is tasked with the rescue of an Asari archeologist named T'soni, currently stranded in hostile territory on the mining planet of Caleston. In doing so, Adam will receive his first glimpses into the strange, ancient history of the galaxy...
Series: Mass Effect: Human Revolution [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573087
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. The Durendal

****

For all intents and purposes, Tali'Zorah should have been happy. After an... interesting first encounter with Hein (which involved him barging in the Normandy's sickbay while she was changing her into her suit inside a cold plasma field), she had found out that one of the men who had saved her - Adam Jensen, that is - had suggested to the strange human that he hire Tali to repair and operate an unknown Geth weapon. Hein had also challenged her to resolve a 'hypothetical' situation involving a fractured element zero core. "How would you maintain a Warp field in a sun's gravity well?" he had asked her. Her long-winded and complicated but nevertheless brilliant answer had eventually gotten her an at will employment contract as the chief engineer aboard his ship, with a standard wage that was more than Tali ever dreamed of receiving from an alien.

At first, she was reluctant to accept, concerned that some of her people were still stuck in that slum (the riot had died down, but it was still an unfriendly place to be) and considered going after them. She had shared his with Hein, and after a moment of pondering he sweetened the deal by offering to have them rescued.

"I have four of the finest soldiers in Sol armed to teeth. You've got a patched up bodysuit and a starter shotgun. Trust me, if you really care about your people's safety, you'll take my deal." And so she did.

She had expected betrayal, she had to admit. Too many a Quarian Pilgrim had fallen prey to people that offered deals far too good to be true. But Hein had kept his word: Veetor and Fyodor were saved, along with two others, who introduced themselves as Zev and Lelia. Hein even offered the other three Pilgrims similar contracts to Tali's. Veetor and Zev accepted without too many questions, seeing as they had no other prospects. Only Lelia protested, saying that she was a traveling minstrel and that her skill lay in merriment, not engineering. Tali thought that extremely odd: _Every_ Quarian in the Flotilla was skilled in engineering. There were various degrees of competence, of course, but no Quarian has ever been considered useless in an engine room.

"Can you cook?" Hein had asked.

"Yes," she had answered simply in her funny accent.

" **Fantastic!** You're our new chef!"

And just like that, the Durendal now had a proper engineering team AND a cook. It occurred to Tali then that Hein did not exactly rescue them out of the kindness of his own heart. He was on the lookout for talent, and more opportunistic than altruistic. Still, Tali could live with that. In fact, she should have been very happy that she and several other Quarians had been saved and been given jobs. Why then, did she feel so down? Maybe it was because of what lead her here. That discovery on Noveria, the death of Keenah, the riot, her near death at the hands of disease, Turian clones, and a commando of Asari Huntresses...

...The face of that boy as Tali loosed a bolt point blank into his head, haunting her thoughts as she tried to sleep...

She shook her head, trying to focus on the Core room's primary console and on her work. Keeping a not so theoretical fractured Element Zero core stable while the ship flew at FTL speeds required quite a bit of work: She had yet to come up with the necessary VI subroutines that would do this automatically.

"Would you like me to take over?" asked Zev. "You look like you could use some rest."

"Hm? Oh, no no no I still have to-" Tali yawned. "I still have to figure out those subroutines."

"Well, you won't be doing that when you're struggling with sleep deprivation."

Before she could reply, Doctor Ross' voice came through on the ship's intercom. "Tali? I've got some mechanical trouble I need you to look at. Could you please come over to Med-Sci?"

Tali considered refusing, seeing as she was still busy with the core, but it occurred to her that Dr. Ross might be able to give her something to fight her weariness. Might as well drop in and take care of whatever mechanical trouble she encountered. "I'll be right there." she answered, "Zev, take over for me, will you?"

"As you wish, Lady Zorah." Zev took a gallant bow.

"... _Please_ stop calling me that." she said as she left the Core room. Part of the appeal of going on a Pilgrimage was escaping the reverence symptomatic of being Rael'Zorah's daughter.

Thinking about her father suddenly made her think about her future: Provided Hein kept her employed for a couple of years, she would have enough Credits to purchase a suitable gift for the captain of the Neema, not to mention that she would have plenty of experience working on and solving the many issues of a human prototype space vessel. Who knows? She might even gain new insights in spaceship engineering and come up with a new type of drive, or power plant, or... something. Something fantastic. Something worthy of the Zorah name.

...

 _"We can trace our lineage back to kings, Tali._ **Kings** _! To be worthy of that ancestry, a Zorah must be a cut above the rest: stronger, smarter and better than the common Quarian! Your gift_ **must** _reflect this. Do not return to us with a common gift... for I will see to it destroyed, and send you away in shame."_

_..._

The bitter memory of her father's voice taunted her as she made her way to MedSci. Would anything ever be good enough? He had not provided her with a criterion for "better". Good gifts could be so varied, in either quantity of quality. Some could be practical, others could be so abstract. What would satisfy father? What would disappoint the captain? She had no idea, but she did understand that a mountain of credits wouldn't do the trick. The thought depressed her; would she ever be done with her Pilgrimage?

Tali opened the door to the infirmary, and her heart skipped a beat. Sitting on the bed wearing nothing but snug gray boxer briefs was Adam Jensen, the man who had rescued her from the Huntresses. At first she was glad, as she had wanted to personally thank him for saving her life. She decided against it, believing that he was far too busy with keeping the Citadel safe from criminals to have any time to spare. When her eyes drifted from his face down to his legs and arms, they widened in horror. They were completely artificial. Tali had read on the extranet that Jensen was a cyborg, but she had assumed he was implanted with similar circuitry to hers, meant to interface directly with her suit and Omni-Tool. But this? This was... _disgustingly_ _overindulgent._

Now, she didn't quite know how to feel about Jensen. One thing was certain: She didn't feel tired anymore.

"Ms. Zorah," Jensen said politely with a slight nod in her direction.

"...wha?" Tali replied lamely. Jensen quirked his eyebrow at this.

Aki, who had been intently scanning Jensen chest and head with her Omni-Tool, turned to Tali and smiled.

"Hi Tali! Mister Jensen here has got a sticky knee actuator on his left leg. Since I'm more of a doctor than an engineer, I figured you could help me in fixing it?"

"Well, that is, I'm kind of busy with the core and uh..." Tali muttered.

"It's actually not that much of a problem," Jensen protested a bit. "The actuator's just a backup in case the myomer bundles snap."

"Oh hush, you! Hein asked me to make sure you're in top form and that's exactly what I'll do." She tapped the bed. "Now lie down, this shouldn't hurt a bit. Tali, come on over and work your magic."

**~[h+]~**

Edward Grey was not a happy man. In the last few days, Hein had dragged him all the way to the Citadel in some gambit to get the major governments of Earth more involved in galactic affairs. It seemed to have worked, but the idea of having a galaxy's worth of responsibility heaped on his shoulders had been a great source of stress. That little skirmish in the sewers had kind of come as a welcome change of pace, but while Grey had thought he had done a fairly good job of eliminating several hostiles with maximum efficiency and had successfully saved and extracted four civies, Hein didn't seem all that pleased.

...

_"Why did you shoot first?" asked Hein as he reviewed the Deep Eyes' helmet recordings, his face neutral._

_"The civies were under attack." replied Grey. "I had to act quickly."_

_"You could have suppressed them, parleyed, gotten them to surrender."_

_"Permission to speak freely, sir?"_

_"You_ always _have my permission."_

_"We were kitted out with lethal gear. If you wanted no fatalities, you should have given us the right gear for it.'_

_"You all have Omni-Tools. You could have used them."_

_"You didn't give us any directives beyond finding and saving those Alien civies, sir."_

_"Yes... and look what you've done with that freedom." Hein smirked. "You killed seventeen men and women - Why, one of them a teenager, looks like! - without so much as a second thought. I see your conditioning is holding fast."_

_"They were armed hostiles intent on killing civilians! Any soldier would have done what I did, conditioned or not!"_

_"Of course. You were absolutely justified in using lethal force as a soldier. But would C-Sec have seen it that way, I wonder? I suppose we're all fortunate the firefight took place somewhere out of the way: Can you imagine the kind of hell you'd have raised if there had been witnesses? No, I don't think you'll be suited for what I have in mind. Fortunately, I know someone who does." Hein closed and set down a green book titled 'Project Galahad' on his desk, as if for emphasis._

_"So that's it, then? You're letting us go?"_

_"Oh, no no no. I suspect I will have need of killers before long. You're dismissed, Captain."_

_..._

What Hein had in mind, apparently, was somehow manipulate events to rope in Adam Jensen onto the Durendal just as they were about to leave. Adam Jensen. The Monster, as the Order liked to call him. The Abomination, he had heard some Templars call him. Usually, Grey would not give either kind of fanatic the time of day, but after Mars... Some part of him wondered if they were right, that grafting machines onto one's body really did make someone evil, or at the very least violently insane, and that he shouldn't just shoot Jensen in the back at the first opportunity. Or maybe he wouldn't give him much of a choice but to kill him. He'd cross that bridge when he came across it.

What really made Grey angry at the moment, however, was that Hein suddenly expected him to work with a _Turian._ Hein came down to the cargo bay with this Garrus Vakarian as Gray ran his daily maintenance routine on his gear. The Turian saluted and stood at attention like a good soldier. Hein then proceeded to list Vakarian's accomplishments as written in his electronic dog tags (a memento from his days in the military. apparently), not to mention his accomplishments with C-Sec. He would be taking Neil's place on the Caleston mission, Neil would keep the engines warm, and Jane would be accompanying Jensen. Gray did not like the sound of that _at all._

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Hein rolled his eyes. "Here we go..."

"I already have a designated marksman. Neil is competent and needs no replacing."

"And you'll still have him when the mission is over. But we both know Neil isn't the best marksman in the world, and Mr Vakarian here is even more accurate and precise with an iron-sighted heavy pistol than Neil is with a fully kitted out DMR... Any other objections?"

"Yes, I don't work with _Kittybirds_ , sir."

"Well," said Vakarian, as he relaxed his stance, "fuck you too, pal. I'm not exactly looking forward to working with any of you, either."

"Tsk tsk tsk. Play nice, children," Hein scolded both soldiers. "Is there a particular reason you don't like Turians, Grey?"

"Shanxi, sir. Hundreds of thousands of civilians, bombarded from orbit? Children being shot to death? Does that ring any bells?"

"As I recall," Garrus began to argue. "Yan Lo made the Shanxi occupiers pay dearly for that. As for the kids... As for the kids, they had no business picking up Gauss rifles."

"They picked those Gauss rifles up after General Arterius started executing their parents!" Grey countered.

"And their parents had no business fighting after Williams surrendered!" Vakarian shot back.

"GENTLEMEN. Let me stop this right now. Grey, how old were you during the First Contact war? Nine? Ten? You weren't there, and every so called fact you got about Shanxi was fed to you by livestreams on OZ. As for me? I was right there for the retaking, and let me tell you, we made the Turians suffer. Boy howdy, did we ever! But hey! That was _twenty-six_ years ago, and I'm more than willing to forgive if not forget. As far as I'm concerned, the price of blood and pain has been paid, and that's the last I want to hear about it. I get enough of this crap from Saracino... Is that understood, Captain?

Grey calmed himself down. "... Yes, sir."

"And as for you, mister Vakarian, if you ever try to justify Arterius' actions in my presence ever again..." He gave Vakarian a cold, withering stare. "I. will. _end._ you. Is that understood?"

Garrus found himself staring at the ground. "... I didn't mean to defend him I just... I understand."

Hein face went from that of a frightening killer to a friendly uncle in the blink of an eye. "Fantastic! Edward, see to it that Garrus gets outfitted with some proper weapons. That Mongoose is impressive, but it won't do much past seventy-five meters. If you'll excuse me, I'll be busy unpacking the 108."

Grey's eyes widened. "The 108? I thought that thing's software couldn't calibrate itself to a human body. Who are y- Oh, no... You're going to give it to _Jensen,_ aren't you _?"_

"Yep!" said Hein as he walked away towards a coffin made of smooth obsidian, propped upright against another crate.

"Are you insane?!"

"Oh, most certainly!"

Neither Vakarian nor Grey said anything as Hein took off his longcoat and got to work adjusting the power armor. Vakarian broke the silence first.

"Say, do you happen to have a spare Serpent? With a digital scope? I'd just love to use one of those..."

Grey sighed as he opened the weapons locker. "All _you'll_ be getting is a Steiner-Bisley Greatsword M3." said Grey as he handed the weapon to the Turian. "The firepower's good enough..."

"...But the recoil compensators are crap." finished Vakarian as he checked the bolt-action rifle's empty chamber.

"Is that so? Well, you're a big guy, you can handle the kickback."

"Oh, most certainly. Not sure why an elite squad of Terran marines is doing using gunpowder weapons, though. Fallen on hard times?"

"I'm not the one wearing an Agent mark 1."

"Touché. Beggars can't be choosers... Hm, yeah, I can handle the Greatsword, no problem. I've had to use one in a pinch to disable a drug lord's escape vehicle."

Grey crossed his arms. "Oh really? Well, I hope you understand why I'm not just going to take your word for it, _Turian_. We're going to go over every single part of that weapon and review its user's manual, and once we're done with that we'll see just how good you are at taking down VR targets. If you're going to be watching our backs, I'm going to make sure you're ready."

"Fair enough. Just don't cry when I blow your high score out of the water."

**~[h+]~**

"Off with the glasses, now." Aki ordered Jensen. He complied by retracting his eye shades back into their plastic clips, and Aki did the classic 'shine a light in the eyes and take note of the reaction' test. To Aki's surprise, Jensen's artificial irises clamped nearly shut almost instantly, and dilated just as quickly when she switched off the light. Impressive reaction time.

Aki had to admit, she was pretty stoked. It wasn't every day that a girl like her got to examine a human being so extensively modified with cybernetics. She wasn't all that interested in the prostheses: it was Jensen's sub-dermal and internal implants that intrigued her the most. A lot of these implants, she noted, could improve the quality of life for a lot of people that reacted poorly to modern gene therapy.

It was a shame they were all technically illegal. More shameful was how humanity had turned its mastery of biotech away from improving the human body. They could create terraforming microbes and build an entire ecosystem, animals and all, from scratch. Why then, couldn't they cure things like Vrolik's Syndrome? Or even Down's Syndrome? Most gene therapies only focused on keeping people healthy and fit, and while that was fine, humanity could do so much more. Biotics drove up the need for human bio-modification research, but once that frontier was conquered, it was likely interest in the technology would grind to a halt. Such a waste...

Jensen's set of brain implants proved to be the most intriguing, and she wondered just how they interacted with his brain, if they boosted his intelligence. It occurred to her that they might interfere with the Dream Catcher... Then again, it's not like they did his dreaming for him.

"Tali, could you have a look at this?" she asked the engineer. Tali looked up from her work reattaching Jensen's shin. Aki showed her a readout from her Omni-Tool. "Can you give me an estimate on the performance of this chipset?"

Tali squinted at it. "Is that... Is that his brain?" she asked in bewilderment as her eyes scanned the hologram of the electronics and the hair-thin conduits that irrigated Jensen's brain. "I'm... not sure. I'd say the processing power is equivalent to a Nexus mark Five, but since I have no idea how the chips interact with his brain, it might be more."

"Huh. Interesting, I didn't know we had such advanced electronics back in the 2020's."

"What's that... tiny cloud on the side of the brain hologram, there?" asked Tali as she pointed at the hologram.

"Neural scarring from a .357 bullet that was lodged into my skull," said Jensen, matter-of-factly.

Aki's eyes widened. "Oh, my! And... you survived that?"

"Well, _evidently_." quipped Jensen. Aki caught him glancing over where the bed where the artificial woman lay unconscious, with transparent tubes of artificial white blood sticking out of her arm and into a dialysis machine. This 'Aya Brea' was another oddity entirely: according to Hein she was a completely synthetic human being, a soft machine, nearly indistinguishable from an actual human being save for some odd mutated organelles in her cells... and a very bad reaction to blood transfusions, apparently. Aki could tell Jensen was concerned about her well-being, although how deeply she wasn't sure.

"She'll be fine," she said reassuringly. "I flushed out the contaminated blood and replaced it with a synthetic substitute. I know she looks pale, but that's white blood for you."

"Will her blood turn back to normal?"

"Not a for a while. Her haematopoiesis seems to have temporarily stopped. I'll keep her hooked up to the dialysis machine until she can replenish her red blood cells on her own, and by then she should be conscious again." Of course, this was assuming there wouldn't be any more quirks to her biology. Aki had to admit, she didn't quite know how to repair a... homunculus? Was that even the proper term, here? "Once she's awake I'm hoping she'll be able to share with me her medical history... and maybe explain the scarring on her bones."

"Scars? I've seen her regenerate from a dozen cuts from glass shards, and she didn't have any scars."

"Is that so? Interesting... As far as I can tell, it seems that her limbs had been amputated. If what you say is true and that she has regenerative abilities so potent they don't leave scars, then..."

...

_"No!..." protested Brea, weak and delirious. "He'll...he'll cut me apart. They always cut me apart...I'll be good...I promise...ah..."_

...

"...then someone must have amputated her limbs repeatedly, causing the scarring to build up." Aki finished. Jensen just stared at Brea's still body, perhaps wondering what kind of person would do that to another person, artificial or no. Aki certainly did. None of them said anything for a while as Tali finished putting Jensen's knee back together and Aki continued her scans. Jensen, for his part, kept looking over at Brea as the two women worked.

"...Is she your wife?" asked Tali, finally. The question must have been burning on the tip of her tongue.

Jensen scowled, a bit embarrassed. "What? No! What gave you that idea?"

"You just seem so concerned for her, so I thought-"

"I... can't really help being concerned. A lot of people died at my hands so that she might live. Granted, most of them were scumbags but..." he shook his head. "I can't bear the thought that it would have been all for nothing." He turned to the doctor. "Look, are we done here?"

"Tali? Done with the knee?"

"All done!" said the Quarian girl a little too gingerly. Adam got out of the bed and flexed his left leg. Satisfied that the actuator functioned properly, he proceeded to put his clothes back on. Despite herself, Aki couldn't help but follow the cog-rail shaped plastic strip that protected Jensen's spine with her eyes and glanced down at his posterior. It was plastic and carbon, of course: there wasn't much point in augmenting someone's legs unless you replaced _every_ leg muscle, glutes included. Still, it was a nicely molded piece of plastic and carbon, and from the quick embarrassed glances Tali tried to not to take at it, Aki could tell she agreed, too.

"Well, that's that for your physical, then." Aki said. "There is some metal fatigue in your arms, though... Have you been repeatedly punching at a concrete wall or something?"

"Something like that," answered Jensen as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Well, it's taken its toll on your endo-structure. You're not in any risk of your arms snapping any time soon, but we should really consider getting you an overhaul. I don't think we have the materials or the equipment for that, though."

"Or the time. I'll just refrain from punching out walls from here on in."

"As for those telltale signs of mild sleep deprivation, we'll be taking care of that in about...three hours? Your melatonin levels should peak by then. In the meantime, how about a tour of ship?"

"Don't you need time to set up this... Dream Catching machine of yours?"

"Oh no, the thing's fully integrated in the bed you were using. All I need to do is press this button right here..." Aki pressed a switch on the side of bed, and several rings and scanners made out of programmable materials shaped themselves into place, creating a halo of sensors where Jensen's head had been laying. "It'll be ready to go when you are."

"Well, might as well kill some time before I go into the lotus-eater machine."

"It's... not meant to be some kind of VR fantasy land, Jensen. The Dream Catcher is a psychotherapeutic tool, and when used in conjunction with the Dream Walker, I can dive in and help someone deal with their psychological issues. It's used by the UNAS military as a way to deal with PTSD, and it's had great success in allowing mentally scarred veterans go on with their lives... Of course, I can't deny that the device opens up some huge possibilities for the entertainment industry. Do you have any recurring nightmares? If you like I can dive in and make your dreams more pleasant."

Jensen quirked his eyebrow at this. "Um... it's not that I'm not flattered, but-"

"Oh!" Aki laughed good-naturedly. "No, I didn't mean it like _that,_ I mean that I can subtly alter the dream scape to pull you out of your nightmare and into more pleasant thoughts and memories. Alternatively, I can go into the Dream Catcher and pull you into a dream scape of my creation... Or, I could have you replay one of my own dream recordings."

"That's sounds lovely..." Tali said wistfully as she tried and failed to suppress a yawn. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in...well, two days, but still..."

"Bad dreams?" asked Aki.

"Yes..."

"I can relate." said Jensen empathetically.

"I understand." Aki nodded and set up one of the beds for Tali and took a Dream Walker device out of a secured locker.

"Oh no, I didn't mean... I still have some work to do in engineering and I was hoping you'd have a stimulant for me, instead."

"I don't have any meds for Quarians, Tali. And a stim would just make things worse in the end. Trust me, nothing does more good to the body like a good night's sleep." She held the device, a white plastic headset, above Tali's head. Take off your hood, please?" she asked the Quarian girl. Tali complied, and Aki set the device right on her helmet.

"Won't my helmet interfere with the connection?" asked Tali.

"No, I just need to boost the gain aaand... there. All done." Aki guided Tali by the hand to the bed and set her down on it, making sure she was completely comfortable. "Now, the device will be set to calibration mode as it gets a handle on your neural structure. By the time you're asleep, the dream should be streamed into your mind once you reach REM sleep. Speaking of which, which would you prefer? A walk on a sandy beach made out of stardust during a multicolored sunset or... flying an airship to the moon?"

"I... think I'll try the former, please."

"As you wish." Aki inserted the proper data drive into a small computer and set up a connection between it and the Dream Walker headset. "Now, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax..."

Aki slowly dimmed the lights, and quietly left the infirmary, taking Jensen by the arm and putting a finger over her mouth. She closed the door behind them both, making sure that they could not disturb her.

"Poor thing likes to throw herself into her work." said Aki. It's commendable, but she's going to burn herself up if she keeps it up."

"... Yeah, I knew someone like that once," said Jensen, with a hint of sadness. Aki picked up on it immediately, but decided not to pry... Even though she wanted to: Jensen fascinated her on a scientific and personal level. The scientific (particularly the odd tissue that formed around his PEDOT electrodes), she could figure through scans and the occasional exam. The personal, the facts behind the stories, she'd have at least seven days to figure out, although Jensen seemed like the strong silent type, the kind of man that preferred to keep most of his past to himself most of the time. Aki wanted to respect that silent wish for privacy, but her curiosity kept prodding her to keep on...well, _prodding._

"Well then, I do believe you still have some time to kill, and I promised you a tour. Shall we begin?"

**~[h+]~**

"Hey there, little man."

In the cargo bay, right by where the Copperhead was housed, Ryan Whitaker squatted next to Fyodor, the little mute Quarian boy. Aki had put together a makeshift set of watercolors and pencils for him to draw with, as Lelia recommended. The Quarian minstrel, clad in dark purple leather and red bands of cloth, was siting on a crate keeping one eye on the boy and the other on her instrument, some kind of small harp made out of glass. It needed some maintenance and tuning, apparently. Ryan looked forward to hearing her play. She nodded at him, as if to say "soon."

As for Fyodor, the boy was keeping himself busy sketching and coloring. A mess of drawings lay on the floor, with Fyodor at the center of it. Ryan spotted a few portraits, most notably one of himself, smiling a big, heartfelt smile. Ryan had to admit, the boy could draw beautifully, although his knowledge of anatomy could use some work. Then again, he was still a kid.

"Hey, is that supposed to be me?" said Ryan, smiling. Fyodor looked up at him and nodded at him excitedly, and pointed at several other drawings. It was the rest of the Deep Eyes: Edward, Jane and Neil. Even Hein and Aki had their portraits, although they seemed a bit more like caricatures. Aki looked like an angel dressed in a gown of flowing silk, her arms spread open like a mother welcoming her child home. Hein was drawn as an evil grinning hooded sorcerer, wringing his hands and plotting some sort of dastardly plot. Ryan chuckled at that: it summed up how he felt about Hein most of time very nicely. As for Aki, well... It was pretty much right on the money, too. She could be so worried about everyone she came across.

Fyodor got back to painting his current project, a huge, ethereal black dog with white fur at his throat (a German shepherd, by the looks of things), biting into the back of the neck of a sword wielding woman in a white mask. There were three other drawings like this, one of them had the giant dog throw a woman onto another, no doubt killing them both. It was... fairly disturbing.

"I think he's trying to process what's been happening to him - all of us," said Lelia in her lovely voice. His translator seemed to think she was french, for some reason, and she had an accent to match. "Our first rescuer had been... brutal when he defeated the mercenaries that planned to kill us."

"Adam Jensen." said Ryan, nodding. The man DID have a reputation to be kind to his friends, but a real terror to his enemies. Ryan's eyes turned to another drawing, that of three knights in full helm, their eyes aglow with blue flames, charging into a group of savages with weapons that spewed a blazing inferno. It seems Adam Jensen wasn't the only one out there being too brutal.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, son." Ryan said sadly. No kid should have to see that kind of violence: it simply wasn't good for the soul.

He knew this all too well.

"I wish there had been another way, but..." There _were_ other ways, but Grey had tagged all the hostiles and shouted 'open fire' before any other option could be suggested or even considered. After Akuze, Grey had become just that much more merciless. Akuze had broken him, and when they put him back together they made sure to take out any hesitation, any doubt in the face of combat.

Ryan didn't want to dwell on this, and looked at some other drawings. One was, strangely enough, a picture of a tanned man with pointy ears clad in green leather, wielding two knives, and a redheaded woman standing over him clad in dark purple leather wielding a bow. They were both engaging some unseen enemy. _Probably a dragon,_ thought Ryan. It occurred to him then that their colors matched those of Zev and Lelia, and he remembered that Zev was wielding two pistols and Lelia was no stranger to carrying a DMR when the Deep Eyes had found them. Fyodor had drawn them both as humans... how very odd.

Another drawing: an incomplete sketch of Grey, dressed like a knight in shining armor with his hands resting on the pommel of a sword. Despite his regal and proud bearing, he looked so very... sad. There was also a drawing of Neil, dressed like some early twentieth century aviator outfit (complete with goggles) flying a mechanical contraption worthy of the Wrights brothers, with a grin plastered all over his face. Jane was, interestingly enough, drawn just standing there, her arms crossed, dressed like a native American wielding a tomahawk in one hand and a knife in the other. Her favorite melee loadout.

"Now how did you know that Jane was part native American, hm?" it then occurred to Ryan there was also no way some alien boy could know what a German shepherd could look like, either. Or a 20th century aviator, for that matter. Or even a medieval knight...

His eyes widened when he saw a drawing of himself, bearing a kite shield, clad neck to toe in armor... With a big red cross painted across his chest.

"How did you...?"

"Well, now, what do we have here?" said Grey cheerfully as he knelt down besides Fyodor. Fyodor seemed excited to see him, pointed a finger at him like a pistol and made explosive noises with his breath.

Grey smiled, put both hands in front of his face and parted them. "Voop! Laser shield!... Huh, seems Fyodor's quite the artist, isn't he?"

"That he is," answered Ryan as he stood up. "Need me for something, sir?"

"Yeah," he said as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Ryan, meet Garrus Vakarian. Vakarian, meet Gunnery Sergeant Ryan Whitaker. He's in charge of maintaining the Deep Eyes' personal armors, and he acts as our Sentinel on the ground."

Ryan, being courteous as always, shook the Turian's hand and nodded in acknowledgment. Garrus seemed a bit confused, and asked: "I thought the UNAS didn't use Biotics?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm not an Alliance Sentinel, we US Marines use a different set of terms for combat roles. My job as a Sentinel is to get the enemy's attention and soak in the bullets."

"Ah. You'll have to bring me up to speed on Marine terminology, then."

"Later," answered Grey impatiently. "Hein wants him to temporarily act as our Designated Marksman for the Caleston mission... He's skilled, no doubt about it, but..."

Garrus did the turian equivalent of a chuckle, and Grey tried to hide his annoyance.

"... _but_ , he's no use to me if some gangbanger can one-shot him with a pea shooter. Can you see if you can upgrade his armor?"

Ryan looked at the Turian from head to toe and scratched his chin. "Yeah, I think I can cannibalize a spare Mechanized IPS. Shouldn't have too much trouble mounting the chest plate and the shields on that Agent mk I. I can also bolt on some spare armor plates on the legs and arms. It's not going to be a power armor, but-"

Fyodor interrupted Ryan by tugging at his pants. He held up another drawing, this one of a knight clad in an impressive if loose fitting blue armor with wings made out of metal and light, wielding a greatsword. Fyodor then pointed at Garrus, and Ryan deduced that he wanted him to make an armor just like that for Vakarian.

"Want me to make him into Archangel Gabriel himself, eh?" Ryan laughed a little bit. "Sorry little man, I haven't got the materials for that, maybe some other time?"

"Ah... Ah!..." Fyodor moaned in frustration and impatience, like any child denied a dream, and kept shaking the drawing in front of him. Ryan was patient and tried to calm the boy down, but Lelia soon intervened.

"Come now, Fyodor," she said. "Let the men work and come with me... It's time for you to go to bed, in any case." Fyodor obeyed after a bit of a sulk, and the three soldiers were now free to talk shop.

"Hm, poor kid. As I was saying," continued Ryan. "it'll keep Vakarian alive." He turned to Vakarian. "So how'd you get stuck in an Agent mk 1? I thought C-Sec had better gear than that."

"I used to have a Medium Partisan IV, but some thugs thought it would get in the way of the nice little 'greasy acupuncture' they had planned for me."

Ryan whistled. "Damn, Greasel Venom's no joke... They didn't actually do it, did they? Seeing as you're still standing and all..."

"Got a few scars to prove they _did_ do it, if you'd like to see." said Vakarian casually. Anyone hard enough to handle a greased up blade and get back up ready to fight was worthy of plenty of respect, and Ryan's respect for Vakarian rose accordingly.

"Well, as much as I'd love to hear more of your _exploits_ , Vakarian, I've got a maintenance check to run on our weapons. Ryan, take care of this ASAP. We've got at least two days before we reach Caleston, so don't overdo it. I don't want his suit to fall apart on me and have to fight next to a naked Turian."

Garrus' mandibles parted, and he squinted like a naughty boy up to no good. "Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time! Reminds me of the time me and Jensen-"

"-I said: I DON'T want to hear it. Ryan, Vakarian, get to work." And with that, Grey left the two soldiers to their business. When he was out of earshot, Vakarian couldn't help but quip:

"I think he's starting to like me."

**~[h+]~**

Doctor Ross made Jensen uncomfortable. Maybe it was because she was gorgeous: standing at an average one meter seventy, her slender frame was covered in a gray US Navy jumpsuit, her pale, unpainted oval face framed by two long waterfalls of unkempt, wavy black hair. She was the complete opposite of Brea, who seemed like the type of woman that wouldn't dare go out in public without at least a layer of foundation on.

Maybe it was because she was a Doctor. Truth is, Jensen never liked being poked and prodded by them, especially after getting augmented.

Or maybe it was because she reminded him so much of Megan. There was that glint in her eye, a brilliance, and an utter fascination with his implants as she scanned him with her Omni-Tool. He could tell she was fantasizing about the applications of the technology, no doubt thinking about how they could improve lives. That was what Megan liked to say, too.

Megan was never in it to improve lives. She did what she did because it could be done.

Ross led him around the Medicine and Science Labs (or MedSci for short), the area she was most familiar with. For some reason, the mess hall and galley was also part of MedSci. and when Jensen pointed that out, Ross simply shrugged, smiled and said "Hey, cooking is science, too!"

Up next on the tour: the Hydroponics Bay. It was abuzz with activity, with several mechanical arms, painted orange, planting seeds evenly on foam oases. Robots carried trays in their arms, moving them from the seeding area to the racks. A transparent tank of green goo (which, thankfully, didn't glow) dripped into the supply of water, which was fed into dozens of metal racks and arrays of shallow pools in which the oases floated. Multi-spectral lamps were everywhere, ensuring that the plants would have plenty of nourishing light. Jensen was thankful for the shades: It was really bright in there.

"That's the concentrated nutrient gel tank," said Ross, pointing at the transparent green gunk. "Without it the plants can't thrive in the water. The first harvest should be due next week, and I'm hoping Lelia will have brushed up on human cuisine to make something good."

"Lelia?"

"...Oh, that's right, you haven't met her! Hein had the Deep Eyes rescue a few Quarian Pilgrims in Upper Zakera on Tali's request, and Lelia is one of them. Hein convinced them to serve on the Durendal as contractors, and Lelia volunteered her services as a cook. I don't know how well Quarians can cook, but if Lelia's cooking is as any good as her singing, then we're in for a treat."

"Is this the only source of food the ship has?"

"Of course not! We've got a supply of protein blocks and water rations stored in the cargo bay. The hydroponics is just to ensure the crew doesn't suffer from malnutrition... Or mutinies after eating nothing but protein blocks for months. Of course, since both the Hydroponics and Cargo bays can be breached by gunfire, there's an emergency supply locker in every room of the ship."

"Smart."

"Over-centralize and you invite disaster, that's one of the lessons the Collapse taught us."

"Couldn't you eat the Bio-Gel in a pinch?"

"Sure!... But the stuff tastes like crap. Mostly because it's literally _made_ out of crap."

"What... kind of crap?" Jensen asked, although he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that one.

"I meant all sorts of broken down biological waste. The Durendal wastes _nothing_ , Jensen."

It suddenly dawned on Adam exactly what she meant. "Oh. OH, okay, Yeah. I think I won't be eating any of THAT, then. How long will your supplies hold out?"

"Since it's just going to be me, Hein, and the four Deep Eyes for the foreseeable future, our supplies will hold out for a year. We bought some food for the Quarians, and those should last them at least a month. Longer, once I can get the Dextro Plants to grow here. You and Garrus won't put such a big dent in our food consumption. If you both turn out to be gluttons, well, we should be able to resupply at Caleston.

Ross led Jensen to the cabins, passing by Special Projects along the way. According to her, the Durendal could house one hundred and sixty crewmen fairly comfortably. Connected to the cabin section was a Recreation room, a shower room, and a small gym.

"With just the handful of us on board, we can all have our own individual cabins."

"Will I be staying here?"

"Well, tonight you'll be spending your night in the infirmary while my computer monitors your brain as you sleep in the Dream Catcher. Provided you won't need to go in there again, I suppose I should temporarily assign you a cabin. Garrus already has one, before you ask."

"Good to know. You said it's just you and the Deep Eyes? This is an awfully big ship, don't you need a crew of a thousand to run it?"

"Automation has come a long way since the twenty-first century, Jensen. A ship this large needs only a few hundred crewmen for it to run efficiently. Of course, since I'm the only Navy officer here, the VI and its robots pretty much run the ship."

"Why are you the only Navy officer here? Shouldn't the Navy have provided a crew?"

"Hein pulled some strings to save the Durendal from the plasma torches and use it to haul sensitive cargo, but since it was the Navy that paid the the ship's construction bill, they felt that they should have a presence on it even as Hein takes it on a joyride across the galaxy. On the other hand, they also pretty much lost faith in the Durendal's concept, so they didn't want to waste an entire crew on it either. So, here I am. Well, that's it for this level."

"...Are you sure? It seems to me we only visited a third of this level."

"The forward half of the ship is dedicated to the ship's main gun. Since it's an active DARPA project, only Hein has the clearance to get in there. There are also several empty rooms, and there's nothing to see in there until someone finds some use for them."

"I see."

"Well, You've already had a look at the cargo level. I could show you the two torpedo rooms that flank it, if you like."

"I think I'll pass. Not much interest in rows and rows of ordnance."

"Well, let's be off to the command level, then."

On their way to the elevator, Ross decided to make some small talk.

"So, Jensen. That's Scandinavian, correct?"

"So I've been told." Jensen answered casually. Truth of the matter was that he had no clue as to his origins. Definitely European, so there was a good chance his parents - his real parents - were from Sweden or Denmark anyways. Then again, he wasn't sure if his adopted father, Arthur, had any Scandinavian blood to speak of. "I, uh, haven't really traced my roots all that well. I may as well be Irish, for all I know."

"Oh, well that's a shame." she said as she pressed the elevator call button.

"... What about you? Aki - That's Japanese, correct?" Jensen wisely didn't mention that 'Ross' was German for 'steed'. Some bits of trivia could be taken the wrong way.

"Yes, it is, but before you ask my parents were a Russian sailor and a Hong Kong waitress. They emigrated to the States shortly before I was born."

"How'd you get named 'Aki', then?"

"My actual first name is Angela. Aki's my middle name, after my godmother. Friends and acquaintances call me Aki because it's shorter."

"Angela isn't that much of a tongue twister."

"What can I say?" Ross shrugged and smiled. "People are lazy. Feel free to call me Angela if you like."

The elevator arrived, and Jensen and Ross stepped in.

...

_"Did he destroy that vase yet?" asked Jensen, half jokingly._

_"I moved it." answered Megan, smiling. "And I fenced in the yard - like you always said you were going to."_

_"Yeah... I never got around to that. ...Sorry."_

_"Me too. About a lot of things... Adam, I... There's something I-"_

_"Jensen?" asked Ross, worried._

_..._

"Jensen, are you alright?" said Ross, putting a hand on Jensen's shoulder. He gasped in surprise, then looked around, double checking his surroundings. For a brief second he was back in 2027, just before the incident... "I'm fine, I guess I just zoned out for a minute there."

Ross looked at Jensen for a moment, trying to figure if he was lying to her. After a moment, she simply said: "Yeesh, the elevator isn't THAT slow... Shall we continue?"

"Yeah. Yeah, lead on."

**~[h+]~**

In the CIC, Jane and Neil were in the middle of a conversation while Veetor checked the Helm. Neil sat in the helmsman seat, leaning back with his hands behind his head, while Jane stood with with arms crossed.

"So, um, how about the new passengers, eh?" asked Neil nonchalantly.

Jane rolled her eyes. She knew what he really wanted to talk about. "Let's just skip to the part where you want to talk about that robot girl's tits."

"Hoo boy! And what a pair they are. I mean, Lockheart's were bigger but -"

"DON'T talk about Lockheart."

"Awww, shit. Sorry, I - I didn't mean to remind you about her."

"Little late for that."

"Hey, I miss her too, you know."

"Hmph. You miss her tits." Jane said bitterly.

"Well, okay, yes that's true but _so do you_ , along with the rest of her. She was a sweet girl. A bit too enthusiastic about punching stuff, but sweet."

Jane didn't like to think about Tiffany. She had been caught off-guard by a gang of Red Tribals back on Mars. She was the perfect prize for them...

"Look, can we just go back to the part where you're a shameless perv?"

"Okay, just for you. Where was I? Oh yes: I was saying that those breasts weren't the biggest I had ever seen, but damn! That shape, that all-natural, perfect shape. Boner inducing, let me tell you."

Jane smirked. "You do realize she's sick and unconscious, right?"

"Heh, don't you mean sleep mode? Well, I do plan on introducing myself once she's out of it. Bring her flowers and everything. Robot chicks still dig flowers, right?"

"Forget it, she's out of your league."

"But she's a _love-bot_! The whole point of these things is to be accessible!"

"And once she turns down your lame attempts at romance you'll have reached a brand new personal low."

"Not so! My man Vee here can set me up with the right dialogue options - maybe even some cheat codes? What do you think, Vee? Think you can help a poor boy out?"

Veetor was laying on his back, trying to repair a few bad connections under the Helm's console. "I, uh... I think I might be able to help... What model of sex-bot are we talking about here? A Pris N6? A Lenore mk 3?"

Neil blinked a couple of times. "...Whoa whoa whoa wait are you actually serious? I was just kidding around but... wait, you know sexbots?"

Veetor sounded a bit embarrassed. "Well, there's this guy in Upper Zakera who couldn't afford real girls for this love hotel, and his sexbots kept breaking down... mostly from overuse, but they'd develop these glitches sometimes."

"I think I'm gonna regret asking this but... what kind of glitches?"

"...Well, certain bits started contracting too tightly when they shouldn't."

"...Eep."

"You sure you still want to have a go at her, Neil?" commented Jane.

Neil ignored her. "Well, are you familiar with any models with the name Aya Brea?"

"... No," answered Veetor. "But if she's got a data jack for software maintenance I think i can still grant you full permissions."

"You are my new best friend."

"Don't think she has a port." said Jane. "I had a pretty good look when Aki had me and Ryan hold her down while she gave her a sedative."

"Aw, bummer... Hey, wait a minute! How come I didn't get called on to help with that?"

...

 _"_ **Hold her down** _!" shouted Aki. Jane and Ryan tried to obey, but this Brea was incredibly strong, and was completely panicked. Jane didn't know where she had suddenly found this burst of energy. Just seconds ago she was almost DEAD._

 _"We're trying, goddammit!" Jane shouted back. It's not that she was mad, but Brea had one hell of a pair of lungs and just wouldn't stop_ **screaming.**

 **"WHOA!"** _exclaimed Ryan as he flew off and crashed into the bed on the other side of the infirmary. Jane saw Hein just standing there, watching, while nonchalantly eating from a bag of instant popcorn. What a prick, she thought._

_Jensen rushed to Brea and had only slightly better luck holding her down, before Aki finally saw her chance and pressed the injection gun against Brea's neck. It took ten whole minutes for the damned meds to kick in._

_Now, it was Jane's turn to fly._

_"Aw, shi-"_

_..._

"Trust me, you would have been absolutely no help. Besides, Aki needed people she was sure wouldn't _cop a feel._ "

Neil was indignant. "Hey! I'm a perfect gentleman!... Most of the time. When I'm sober."

"Except you're actually considering making her your love slave. ...What do you think her _boyfriend_ will think of that?"

"Oh I'm sure we'll be able to work out a trade. Think he likes space sims?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking he's just gonna punch you through a wall. You have heard about him, right?"

"Aw, come on, I don't believe everything I read on OZ. Sure, Jensen's kinda scary looking but deep down? He's a total pussycat."

"Meow," deadpanned a guttural voice behind Neil. The Deep Eyes' pilot's eyes widened and he froze in fear. Jane 'helpfully' spun the pilot's seat around, and Neil was now being stared down at by Adam Jensen. Aki was at his side, palming her face.

Neil chuckled nervously. "...Hi?" Neil tried to put on a smile to hide his terror, but Jensen just kept glaring at him.

"Jensen," said Aki after a long, disappointed sigh, "meet Neil Fleming. He's the Deep Eye's pilot and the Durendal's helmsman. Don't get up, Neil! It's not rude, at all."

Realizing that he was quite rudely just sitting there, Neil promptly got up and shook Jensen's mechanical hand... Which turned out to have a vice like grip.

Aki continued: "And...the Quarian working down there is... Veetor? Come on out and introduce yourself, please."

"Oh! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" said Veetor as he hurriedly rose to his feet. "I was just a bit too focused on the - I mean, Hello! My name is Veetor'Nara nar Qwib Qwib and... wait, I remember you!"

"Yeah, I remember you too, you're one of the pilgrims I saved from execution."

"Yes!" Veetor shook Jensen's hand furiously. "I had hoped to see you again and tell you how grateful I am for saving our lives!"

"Well, I didn't do that great a job of it, evidently, since I'm told you needed rescuing a second time... I'm sorry."

"That's... actually kind of our fault. We had a golden opportunity to leave, but Zev and Lelia needed the tools of their trade, since begging on the street wouldn't have kept us fed or healthy. A gang caught sight of us and we were forced to escape down in the sewers, but without a map and Greasels at our heels, we were trapped, then surrounded. As far as I'm concerned, we're still in your debt, doubly so for squandering the chance you gave us."

"How about we just call it even, okay?"

Veetor nodded, and Aki completed the introductions with Jane. "And you've met Jane Proudfoot in the infirmary, already."

Jane held out her hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Jensen shook it. Jane thought she'd have trouble dealing with a cyborg on board, that looking at Jensen would cause her to flashback to Mars, but there she was, shaking a cyborg's hand. Maybe it was because Jensen's prostheses looked nothing like the Red Tribals'. Jensen's augs (those that she could see, anyways) were smooth, sleek, and painted black with a glossy finish. They were almost beautiful, in comparison to the pieced together scrap the Tribals put on their bodies.

"We met some time before that, actually," said Jane. "You stopped that Allie from throwing her life away." Jane smiled: she always approved whenever Alliance Marines bit off more than they could chew and choked on it. She would have preferred to settle the fight herself, of course.

"I was just doing my job." replied Jensen, "keeping the peace. Don't think for a minute that she wouldn't have put up a fight."

Jane was confident enough in her skill with a knife to know that it wouldn't have been a fight: It would have been an execution. "Hmph, whatever you say."

Sensing her meaning, Jensen crossed his arms and began lecturing her. "Okay, then. Let's assume I didn't stop that punch and you killed her easily - And you were ready to kill her, I could tell - Then I would have had to arrest you for manslaughter. Things could have easily escalated from there. Worst case scenarios? I kill you because you resist and force my hand, or you kill me and C-Sec flags you as a cop killer, signing your death warrant... all because you went for a knife to deal with a punch you invited through verbal abuse. I was doing both you _and_ Williams a favor, make no mistake about it."

And just like that, Jensen had killed the goodwill he had bought with Jane. An uncomfortable silence fell on the group, as Jane processed what Jensen had just said. Aki broke the silence before things got any more awkward. "So! This is the CIC! Standard Octagon configuration with a Strategic holographic pit in the center, surrounded by thirty stations. The helm faces the bow -naturally- and can be configured in a multitude of haptic setups and avionics. Past that door is Drone Control, but I can't take you through there. Classified tech, and all that."

"Should he really be in the CIC?" asked Jane. "This is a pretty sensitive area for a civilian to visit."

"Technically," answered Aki, "I'm the only one that has any business here, since I'm a sailor and you two are leathernecks. I think I'm allowed to show a civilian around a ship the Navy doesn't really want, as long as he doesn't touch anything."

 _"Hein to Jenseeeeen!"_ Hein's sing-song voice came through the ship's intercom. _"I have something to shooooow yo- Hey, wait a second - what are you doing in the CIC?"_

"Do... do I just reply out loud," Jensen quietly muttered to Aki, "like in Star Trek?"

"Pretty much." replied Aki. "Colonel? I was just showing Jensen around the ship to pass the time until he's ready to head into the Dream Catcher."

_"Ah, Doctor Ross! I don't suppose Tali is with you, as well?"_

"Ah, no. She's asleep, running a dream through the Dream Walker."

_"Oh really? Hm, I'll just have to leave post-it on her helmet, then. Jensen? Can you even hear me?"_

"Yeah, yeah, I can hear you."

_"The 108 is assembled! Come on down to the Cargo bay and have a look."_

"Wait, the 108's unpacked?" exclaimed Neil. "Oh, man! This I have to see! Jane, you coming?"

"... Sure, why not?"

**~[h+]~**

"Ah, I see that I've got a bigger audience than expected." said Hein as the Deep Eyes, Jensen, Aki and Garrus gathered around him and the black obelisk. The storage 'coffin' was almost completely covered in polished obsidian, save for a few large metallic screws that kept the box sealed. On the face of the obsidian monolith was the Shinkawa Heavy Industries logo, a Bāguà trigram (the Zhèn, or Thunder, as Jensen and Aki recognized it), and under the logo was some centered text: the name, model, and serial number of the product within the man-sized black box.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN." exclaimed Hein, his arms wide. "You may have been wondering what has been languishing in that black box that's been gathering dust in that corner of the cargo bay. Well, today is the day we shed light on the mystery! Everyone! Feast your eyes on the Shinkawa Model 108 Augmented Performance Suit!"

Hein put his hand on the side of the monolith, and the screws rotated and hissed out in sequence, each time with a loud clank. Steam hissed out of them, and the seemingly featureless smooth surface split in the middle, revealing the prototype power suit. Its outer shell was made of thick segmented ceramic plates bolted over a layer gold-bronze colored alloy. The helmet was mostly featureless save for two sensors on the left and right, and the faceplate was sculpted in three faces that formed a Y-shaped edge. The arms seemed a bit bare in comparison, covered in a flexible glossy plastic dotted with bronze gold studs.

Neil whistled. "Now _that_ is impressive."

Jane crossed her arms, her expression doubtful. "It LOOKS impressive, but what can it do?"

"What can it do? What CAN'T it do?" replied Hein excitedly, a grin on his face. "The 108 is designed to render any type of soldier into a super soldier! It doesn't matter if you're a Commando, a Ravager, a Medic, a Saboteur, a Synergist, a Sentinel or any combination thereof: This suit has everything you need to succeed -and excel!- in any of those roles. The basic inner suit is a half centimeter thick layer of CNT muscle fibers that pack the raw physical power of a Wanzer into every limb, sandwiched between an insulating layer of Bio-Gel that regulates the health of the wearer, and an outer skin of ballistic-resistant plastic. The segmented middle plating maximizes protection and flexibility-"

"Couldn't stop a heat knife," commented Jane.

"Details, details!" dismissed Hein. "Where was I? Ah yes! And the outer plates are a ceramic composite designed to absorb kinetic and energy weapon fire. The integrated mini-frame has over three times the processing power of the best military grade Omni-Tools, and its linked to eight Omni-Gel emitters and twenty-four, individually cored shield emitters."

"So it's basically one big Omni-Tool?" asked Ryan, his hand raised.

"Yes! Yes, exactly!"

Ryan rose his hand again: "Can it make an Omni-Shield?"

"It can make Omni- _Armor_!" Hein typed a few commands in his Omni-Tool, and the 108 responded by opening its central gold-bronze chest plate. A mist of Omni-Gel sprayed out from the uncovered emitter, and molded itself into a solid shape, creating a glowing, transparent plate of armor that floated over the chest. Ryan approved of this: this could raise his chances of survival considerably, since being a USMC Sentinel was dangerous work... Too bad the suit wasn't his size.

Jensen approached the suit, examining it. "Armor's a bit bare on the arms."

Hein nodded. "The modular design of the armor is basically the same idea behind the ease of modification of Wanzers. See the sockets on the arms? A variety of different armlets can be mounted for a variety of mission roles, ditto for the legs. There's blade armlets, gun armlets, missile armlets... There's rocket boots, roller-skate boots..."

"I don't see any of that in the box... except maybe for that blade and..." Jensen pointed at some kind of hexagonal plate (which looked more like a triangle with its points cut off). "What is that?"

"That's the Pelta EM shield system and the the Fandango Blade. The other cool stuff... " Hein winced. "Tsk! Well, I couldn't save everything from the Phased Plasma torches when Tokugawa Heavy Industries grabbed every piece of Shinkawa hardware that I couldn't. Bastards wasted good tech. Don't worry, I'll have a couple of armlets machined first thing in the morning. Speaking of which..." He clapped his hands. "Everyone! Time to get some shut eye! I want everyone well rested! Tomorrow we put the 108 through its first paces, first thing after eggs and bakey at oh six hundred hours ship time. Dismissed!"

The Deep Eyes scattered, getting back to some unfinished business before bed time. Jensen just stood there, looking at the armor that he would be wearing for the next few days, familiarizing himself with its potential weaknesses. Aki and Garrus joined him as Hein excused himself, as he had some research to do in his quarters.

"What Hein failed to mention..." said Aki. "Is that Shinkawa went through a dozen testers trying to get this thing to work at its full potential. The scandal and the resulting lawsuits bankrupted the company."

"Those testers weren't Jensen." said Garrus as he patted his partner on the back. "His bones are metal!"

"Most of them, anyways." said Jensen.

"Still," continued Aki. "I'll talk to Hein and see if we can begin testing the 108 at low output. Knowing Hein, he'll want to get the best results as soon as possible. The CNT muscle fibers could potentially mangle even Jensen."

"Sounds reasonable. Jensen, what do you think?"

Jensen rose his finger, silently telling Garrus to be quiet for a moment, and let out a long yawn. "I think I'm ready to go to bed. It's been a long day, between Biotic AIA agents, death squads, and blackmailing DARPA chiefs..."

Aki smiled. "Very well, let's get you set up in the sick bay, shall we?"

**~[h+]~**

"Alright, straps or no straps?" Ross asked Jensen as he lay on the bed.

"Excuse me?"

"I think," said Garrus coyly, "that the good Doctor is asking if you're a dom or a sub."

"No, I'm asking If Jensen would prefer to be strapped down on the bed or not. You'll be getting eight hours of REM sleep, and that increases the likelihood of nightmares. It can cause a lot of involuntary movements, and since you've got superpowered limbs..."

"...You're worried that I'll break something," completed Jensen. "Fine, strap me down, if it'll make you feel better."

Aki put some flexible straps over Jensen's arms and legs and tied him down to the bed. They weren't exactly tight, but he would still need to put a conscious effort to free himself from them.

"So Doctor," asked Garrus. "What is this Dream Catcher going to do to Jensen's brain?"

"It's just going to have a look into it, and record his dreams. Hein will be reviewing them, as far as I understand the specifics of your deal with him."

"Hmph."

"Don't worry, I've done this before! The Dream Catcher is one of the safest pieces of psycho-cybernetic technology in Sol."

"Well I'm a little worried he won't be able to tie his own shoelaces when its through with him."

"You want vegetables? Try the Order's so called 'Soul Scanners'!" Ross made air quotes for emphasis as the Dream Catcher set itself up around Jensen's head. "Those things are almost _guaranteed_ to fry braincells."

Ross loaded up an injector gun with a sleeping aid, and pressed it against Jensen's neck. A hiss, and Jensen started feeling groggy already.

"Garrus?" asked Jensen. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"If I wake up and start going off about what a swell guy Hein is, shoot me in the head."

"Will do!"

"Thanks, you're... you're a pal..."

And just like that, Jensen fell asleep.

**~[h+]~**

_It was such a thrilling experience for Tali, to walk barefooted on silver sands as the wind gently caressed her bare legs and arms. A pale yellow sundress hovered her skin, and as Tali looked down she realized that this wasn't her body. The skin was a shade of pale brown - or was it pink? - and her hands... they had five fingers. Five! Tali tested them, and smiled. How very weird!_

_Tali pulled her gaze away from her avatar, and marveled at the blue sky above her. The pale outline of a moon and round white clouds floated in a canvas of what was the strongest, deepest shade of Azure Tali had ever laid eyes on. The sound of the waves gently crashing on the shore set a rhythm that Tali lost herself to, and before long, dusk came._

_As promised, the sunset was indeed multicolored, although the streams of hues never strayed far from oranges and yellows. Tali wasn't disappointed in the least, as the calm sunset proved to be a feast for the senses._

_She felt something - no,_ someone - _walk beside her, and with a slight start she turned to face a tall figure, robed in tan cloths that reminded Tali of the ancient Quarian priests of old. It turned its face to her, and she noted that its face was covered in a helmet, its eyes shone in a bright yellow-green light that contrasted beautifully with the ambient oranges and reds that the sunset cast on the world. Specks of green and blue light streamed across its face, chest and arms in a circuit of seams cut into its smooth, metallic plating. There was something about the stranger's presence that was both emotionally entrancing and yet mentally unbearable, as if his mere presence was an idea so complex Tali's mind strained to understand it._

_It spoke in a voice that seemed so young, and yet infused with unparalleled wisdom, kindness... and sorrow._

**"Don't be afraid."**

_But as he spoke, the sky began to shatter, the sand began to melt, and the water began to turn into mist. Tali was surprised at her own calm at the sight of what seemed like the end of all things... right up until her human skin ripped apart, making way for the plastic and leather of her enviro-suit... and she found herself crying._

_"No, please! Don't put me back in this... in this_ **cage** _!"_

_But it was too late, the dream had collapsed._

**~[h+]~**

Tali gasped, and opened her eyes. She found herself staring at... a piece of yellow paper stuck on her visor. She pulled it off, and noticed something was written on it. It took a moment before her eyes focused on her translator's AR text. It read:

_Tali plz report to the Cargo bay 6:00 ship time Need help with suit adjustments -Edgar_

_PS: Hope you had sweet dreams ;)_

_PPS: Don't wake Jensen up_

Tali flipped the piece of paper, and on the back it said:

_PPPS: Srsly don't do it._

Tali heard someone groan to her right: It was Jensen, strapped down to the Dream Catcher, trying to toss and turn while his dreams persecuted him. Tali simply... stared at him, unsure as to what to do. On the one hand, there was her saviour, in obvious pain as an uncaring machine peered inside his mind while he endured what seemed to be a nightmare. On the other hand, his prostheses kept reminding her of pictures of the ancient Geth she saw on every school day during her childhood. They were always shown to her with this litany, repeated three times to carve a terrible lesson in the minds of quarian children:

 _Know the face of your enemy. Know the visage those who exiled us from our rightful homeworld. Know the shape of those who nearly drove us to extinction._ _Know the form of what you must kill, lest you be killed by it._

It was hard to separate her undying... gratitude? Yes, gratitude, from almost two decades of ingrained, generational hatred. There were now fused together, as Jensen's robotic arms were grafted on his flesh. She had tried to separate those conflicting feelings the whole time she was repairing that knee actuator, and she had almost succeeded until she saw the electronics that practically perforated Jensen's brain. How much of his thoughts were his and not a computer's? Was there still a soul in there or did that bullet that scarred his brain kill it? Amidst these thoughts, the one that haunted her the most was that she had been saved by, of all things, a _machine_ , not a person. Was his suffering real? Or some simulation designed to prey on her feelings? Tali just stared and stared, conflicted, hoping that watching Jensen would somehow tell the truth of the matter.

"Megan..." Jensen muttered. That name, he said it with so much sorrow and regret. It cut through her doubts, and she rose from her bed, intent on freeing Adam from the Dream Catcher's grasp. She had barely made it to the foot of his bed when someone spoke:

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I mean, I left you that Post-It for a _reason._ "

Tali nearly leapt out of her suit in fright, and turned behind her at the source of the voice. Sitting casually at Dr Ross' desk was Hein, staring at streams of undecipherable data as he leaned back against the desk chair with his feet up on the desk. He had taken a puff out of a cigarette - a real one - and promptly put it in a metallic cylinder, which he then pocketed.

"Between the horrible flashback and the meds, attempting to physically wake him might cause him to react violently. Keep in mind, Jensen can outpunch a Krogan, so..."

Tali backed away, afraid. She had seen what an angry Krogan could do. The memory of a Batarian's brains splattered on a wall was not a pleasant one, and the thought of that happening to her...

"Smart girl." Hein smiled and beckoned her to come closer.

"Colonel Hein, what are you doing?" Tali asked, almost accusingly as she saw the data streams. Try as she might, she couldn't decipher it mentally: the symbols used were so... alien.

"Please, let's not stand on formality. After all, I've seen you naked."

"Yes..." Tali gritted her teeth, annoyed. "You did. Mister Hein..."

"Call me Edgar! Or Ed!" Hein smiled. "As for what I'm doing, I'm taking a sneak peak at Jensen's dreams while the Dream Catcher compiles them into a real time audio video file."

"You can read _this_?"

"Oh, I can make out a few things here and there." He pointed at the screen. "Here we have a Brunette... and here we have glass, and here we have horrible physical pain... Here we have fire... Oh, let me take compile a short preview vid for you."

With a few keystrokes, Hein conjured up a short, one second video of a harsh looking human with a black shirt and red arms aiming a gun at the 'camera'. He fired it, and the video looped, over and over again.

"Ouch," quipped Hein, " _that_ will wake you in the morning... Or, um, put you to sleep for good."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you forcing him to sit through this nightmare?"

"Hey now! The Dream Catcher isn't influencing his dreams at all! it's simply recording them. This nightmare is of his own making. Don't worry so much! After all he's only got two more hours of this to go bef-"

The holographic screen went from standard red-orange to yellow-green, and a mess of even more complex data surged out of the screen.

"Ah, there you are again you little bastard!" Hein put his legs down and began to type commands in furiously at speeds Tali could only envy. Humans certainly could make full use of all five of their fingers, especially when keyboards were involved.

Hein continued to work like this for ten whole minutes. Tali politely cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, but the man was completely focused. Just as she was about to leave, Hein began to relax back into the chair.

"There, done. Where was I? Ah yes, in answer to your question, I'm putting Jensen through the Dream Catcher because, well, quite frankly, he stole something from me, and now I'm getting it back."

"What did he steal from you?"

"The contents of a Prothean Beacon." Hein disconnected a data drive from Dr Ross' computer and opened it, revealing a hexagonal chip. "Do you remember this?"

"That's the chip you wanted me to have a look at. I'm sorry I couldn't fix it."

"Oh, don't you worry about that. The thing about this chip is that it served as a backup memory device for none other than Lieutenant Commander Shepard, who-"

"-came in contact with a Beacon on Eden Prime. I know."

"Exactly. But instead of getting a bad case of Beacon Contact Syndrome, Shepard managed to mentally shunt the unimaginable amount of data into this chip. Sadly, it nearly completely erased the memories backed up into it, and the Prothean data was completely scrambled. Jensen, in a misguided attempt to find and apprehend Shepard's killer, snuck onboard Durendal and interfaced with the chip, and the contents were uploaded directly into his brain."

"Does that mean he's going to go insane?"

"Oh, no no no! I mean, I thought so too at first, and I managed to rope him into sleeping here to pull out as much as the data as possible before he went completely bonkers. But here's the thing, despite a few... lingering issues here and there, Jensen isn't even at Stage 1 of BCS. In fact, his brain seems to be perfectly stable despite having soaked in an entire Prothean library.

Tali was shocked: any spacefaring race knew the dangers of interfacing with a Prothean beacon too long. "How is that possible?"

"I have no idea! Maybe his brain implants are keeping him stable? Maybe he's some kind of genius? Or maybe he's really secretly the last of the Protheans?" Hein snickered.

"Leave them alone..." Jensen muttered. "It's me you want..."

"Can't you make the process less... painful for him?" asked Tali. "Please, there's no way you can pull everything you want in just one session anyways. Hasn't he had enough for tonight?"

"He wouldn't be in this thing if he hadn't foolishly plugged into hardware with no real idea with what was inside. If anything, he's practically punishing himself."

Jensen groaned, mournfully. "I'm sorry..."

"See? He's sorry! Who am I to stop his own self-flagellation?"

"Fahl... I'm so sorry..."

Tali pleaded with her eyes, and Hein folded. "Gah! Just, argh! Enough with the you-kicked-my-puppy eyes! I can stimulate the areas of his brain where the pleasant memories lie. He should start dreaming about that instead." Hein typed a few commands in the computer as he sulked. "There we go, we just have to wait while the DC scans Jensen's mind and, hm, there's something promising here."

Two images appeared on the console. One was that of a sky colored Asari woman with the most beautiful blue in blue eyes Tali had ever seen. Glossy black, mechanical hands cradled her face and wiped a tear of joy away. Another image showed a little human girl with silver hair, laughing as she was held up high by Jensen.

"Memories of happier days gone by, earned in blood," commented Hein mysteriously, "and drowned in flames. Let's stimulate that bit and... There. Instant sweet dreams."

Jensen's groaning, tossing and turning stopped. Tali breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, how do you feel about our mysterious passenger?" Hein asked. "I'm curious, since you spent at least ten whole minutes just staring at him after you woke up."

"You - you saw that?"

"I see _everything._ "

"Why do you care what I think about him?" Tali said, shaking her head.

"Well, he'll no doubt need your expert hands again in the future, and I just want to make sure you don't suddenly go 'kill all the robots'. You know, because of that whole Geth/Quarian thing a few centuries back?"

"I... I don't know how to feel about him. He saved me from Saren's clutches, but I don't know if I can respect the kind of man willing to sacrifice his own flesh for the sake of power. I mean, _look_ at him! At which point did he decide that enough was enough? Did he decide at all? What is he willing to do to get more?"

Hein took a deep, patient breath, and sighed it out like a disappointed parent. "I know... _exactly_ , what you mean. Zorah. But you don't need to worry about that with him: according to my research, Jensen's extensive augmentations were not of his choosing." Hein pulled a green book out of his coat, with the words 'Project Galahad' written on it with a black marker. "It's all here, but let me sum it up for you: bad shit happened, he was torn up, and his boss decided to cram every piece of cutting edge technology at his disposal to turn him into his own personal attack dog."

"...What kind of sick monster would do that to someone?"

"Someone that wanted answers? Justice? Revenge? Doesn't matter. But I believe that David Sarif, the man that did this, understood a simple truth: Those that crave power cannot hope to control it. They inevitably become consumed by a thirst for more. This is the great irony of the human - no, the **sentient** condition. The only people you can trust with power... are those that do not want it. Those that never ask for it. Sarif saw that in Jensen, saw in him the perfect agent, one that could use the strength and abilities granted to him with both restraint and wisdom."

"What if you're wrong? What if this Sarif just wanted a killing machine, and that's exactly what he got?"

"Am I now? Let's be honest here: anyone this heavily augmented would thrive as a warlord in the Terminus, where might makes right. Jensen? He tried his hands at being a _farmer_ on Elysium. While many ran and cowered in their bunkers during the Blitz, Jensen took up arms to defend a people that did nothing but view him with suspicion and scorn. Over ten thousand people owe him their lives, and while all of them proved grateful in the end, The Alliance decided that this would not do, and had their buddies in the Templars burn his home. He then spent the next six to seven years righting wrongs and capturing dangerous criminals, making the Citadel a safer place and earning the respect of his co-workers in C-Sec. His reward for that?" Hein rose from his seat, coming face to face with Tali. "The Alliance plots to capture him and sell him out to the Order for making vanilla humans look bad. His reward for saving the life of a Quarian Pilgrim, exposing a corrupt Spectre in the process? The Council doesn't even give him so much as a pat on the head, and the pilgrim can't get past his mechanical parts and views him with _suspicion and fear._ "

Tali found herself staring at her feet, and Hein raised her chin with his finger, then put his hands on her shoulders, staring into her eyes. "And you know what else? You could spit on his face and curse his name, and he'd still come to your help. That's pretty much how Brea treated him, and look at what he did: He killed twelve heavily armed men to save her life! What does his actions say about him, hm? I dare say it vindicates my estimation of him. And that's why I'm giving him the 108. I'm going to turn Jensen into the most powerful human being in the Galaxy. I'm going to make the rest of mankind turn green with envy and stew in their jealousy as Jensen comes to their rescue, again and again and again, and go mad when he fails to turn into the monster they all expect him to be."

"Rescue humanity? You mean from Saren?"

"Saren?!" Hein cackled. "Yes, Saren, of course... Him and-" Hein pulled Tali close and whispered in her ear. "-the monsters that hide under your bed, and sleep in the dark."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

CODEX ENTRY: EARTH: PLANETARY NETWORKS: OZ

OZ is the primary (indeed, the only) planetary network service provider on planet Earth. During the decades of reconstruction after the dark times brought upon by the Collapse, one of the main priorities in rebuilding earth's civilizations was the reestablishment of telecommunications, particularly the global network called the 'Internet'. While each country was having moderate success in restoring it, it was the World Trade Organization that stepped in and coordinated all these efforts, uniting hundreds of disparate national electronic networks into a single entity. Through clever deals and the occasional buy outs, the WTO effectively took control of nearly all telecommunications on Earth, and has been criticized by various extranet hacker groups for its monopoly.

Accessing OZ is a lot like playing a simple massive-multiplayer computer game with an easy-to-use social networking system. A user controls an avatar within a virtual city made up of shops, malls and restaurants which serve as representatives of real, actual brands. Government agencies also maintain virtual offices in OZ, and a user can pay his or her taxes or file documents through them.

Seventy-five percent of the content on OZ can be viewed on a free account from any terminal or computer in the world. In order to access the other twenty-five percent (such as games, movies and music), the user must pay with OZ's own digital currency (the OZ point) and must have a valid embedded RFID chip for adult content. Submitting user-created content requires a Silver Premium account and the submission process can take days while it is inspected for malware. A Gold Premium user can have his content up live within hours.

**~[h+]~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus begins the first chapter in the Masque of the Black Queen arc. The book itself also serves at the start of a genre shift from space opera cyberpunk to science fantasy (at least on the surface)
> 
> Apologies to biologists if I got anything wrong with the science in this chapter.
> 
> Fyodor's art style is reminiscent of Yoshitaka Amano and Akihiko Yoshida's. OZ is basically facebook/google combined with a free to play mmo, reigning supreme over the internet.
> 
> Speaking of art, the Shinkawa Model 108 was inspired by Vanquish, although visually it looks nothing like it. 
> 
> Special thanks to Setokaiva for spellchecking this chapter.
> 
> and Kalaong for helping me work out this book's summary!


	2. The Durendal, part II

Jensen opened his eyes, the echoes of the past growing more distant as his consciousness took over. He freed himself from the straps and sat up, pondering over his recent experience in the Dream Catcher.

It hadn't been very pleasant, but then again, his nights hadn't been pleasant for a long time. Come to think of it, the real problem had been that drug Aki had given him: He always woke up before things could get really, really messed up, when the adrenaline kicked him awake. But last night, the drug had kept him asleep, forcing him to experience flashbacks and memories best left buried: the Tyrant's attack on Sarif HQ, the incident at Panchaea 05, Elysium. The last part had turned out to be the most pleasant, and yet, turned to be the most bitter part of the experience. During his last moments of slumber, Jensen found himself looping through one of the peaceful days with Fahl and Sunny after the Blitz. He kept expecting everything the templars to come out of nowhere and burn everything, but before they could, Jensen looped back, over and over again. Eventually, he woke up... and found himself wanting to go back to sleep, back to that house on the hill...

_No. Those days are gone. Let old ghosts rest. Just let it..._

_..._

_At the river dock, just as Jensen disembarked, Sunny ran up to him. "Papa!" she shouted, and Jensen grabbed her by the sides, lifted her and twirled her around. She laughed, and after three spins Fahl walked up to them both, her posture graceful and demure as always, her expression amused and a bit disapproving at the same time._

_"That's one spin too many, Adam." said Fahl. "She's just had dinner, and I fear you'll make her sick."_

_"Oh?" Jensen set Sunny down. "I'm sorry I missed dinner, then. What did you have to eat?"_

_"Another block of carboard-ey paste." said Sunny, bitterly pouting. "Bleagh!"_

_"Well, tomorrow we'll eat something better." Jensen withdrew a few groceries out of his bag. "Eggs, bacon and potatoes for breakfast! How does that sound?"_

_"That sounds wonderful! Let's have some right now!"_

"Sunny," _Fahl put her hand atop Sunny's head._ _"Gluttony is not a virtue._ "

_"Aw..."_

_..._

_"Fresh food's at a premium right now." said Adam as he came downstairs. The living room was lit by a few candles: the power had been cut a month ago, and Adam didn't want to waste the last power cell. "I had to pay 50 platinum for the eggs and twice that for the bacon." He handed a bag of platinum coins to Fahl. "Once the wheat is harvested we should be able to sell it at a decent price."_

_"How did you come by this? I can't expect a whole lot of people would be willing to part with coin, things being as they are."_

_"Well, you know how it is," Adam chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "there's always someone just waiting for a guy like me to lend a helping hand."_

_"... Adam?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Don't lie to me. How did you come by this?"_

_"... Reynolds put together a posse to hunt down some marauders, leftovers from Haliat's horde. He paid me once-"_

_"Adam! You promised you were done with this!"_

_"They were a danger to the colonists, and Sunny... Sunny needs to eat better. I didn't have much of a choice."_

_"You could have left it to Reynolds, or even the Alliance soldiers. Why couldn't you?"_

_"...You know me. I just can't abandon people in need."_

_"One day, you will have to."_

_"...Fahl?"_

_"Listen to me: There will_ **always** _be someone in need. There will always a villain to capture, always a monster to slay. Will you continue to pursue them forever? My worst nightmare, Adam, is seeing you fight battles for the needy until the end of time, never once knowing peace, with no one knowing or caring about your struggles..."_

_..._

"Adam?" prodded Dr. Ross, snapping Jensen out of his reminiscense. He hadn't even heard her come in. "How are you feeling?"

Jensen took a deep breath as he considered the question. "Pretty good, actually. I can't say that I slept pleasantly on account of some bad dreams, but I slept."

"Bad dreams? Have you been getting a lot of those lately?"

"...Yeah."

"Would you like to talk about them?"

"...No. Maybe another time. Look, I've got some work to do. What time is it?"

"Oh six-hundred and thirty, ship time. Everyone's taken their showers and had breakfast already, so nobody will be disturbing your morning routine. Oh! Speaking of which..."

The doctor handed Jensen a small waterproof plastic pack. "That's a standard military bathroom kit for men. Shampoo, toothbrush, everything you need. It's even got a small razor and shaving cream. It's all concentrate, so don't use too much at once. And this..." she handed him a set of clothes vacuum sealed in plastic. "Is a Navy service uniform. You've been sleeping in your clothes, and I thought you might want to change.

"Thanks." said Jensen as he got up to leave. "I appreciate it."

"No problem. Oh, and Jensen?"

"Yes?"

"If you need help with the dreams, my door is always open."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

The Durendal's showers reminded Jensen of those they had back in his high school's gym, all ceramic walls and pipes and zero privacy, with showerheads on every wall, both pillars, and even some on the ceiling; it was a design that favored getting as many sailors and marines clean as quickly as possible, dignity be damned. He was glad the Deep Eyes had already cleaned themselves up: after getting his augs, Jensen had become a bit shy when it came to nudity. People with strong anti-aug sentiment insulted him on the streets while fully clothed. What would have they said if he had walked around without a shirt, seeing the screws in his chest that kept metal bars fixed on this chest? Or the strip of carbon and plastic on his back that covered his spine?

Jesen had decided to use one of the showerheads on the rightmost pillar, and the cold drizzle washed away the smell built up from a night of cold sweats. He looked up at the shower head, letting the cold water splashed over his face, chasing the last remaining amounts of sleep inertia. Droplets fell harmlessly over his naked eyes, and he kept them wide open, letting the water warp his vision.

He noticed movement on his left, and saw Jane Proudfoot, all sweaty, casually removing her sports bra and underwear. She stuffed them in a locker, and switched on one of the showerheads on the left pillar and then started scrubbing herself down with a bar of soap. Jensen didn't mean to stare, but she had an intimidating physique, with well defined muscles and a skin marred with criss crossing scars.

"Jensen." she greeted casually.

"...Proudfoot?"

At his expression of shock, Jane smirked. "What? Ma and Pa Jensen never sat you down and told you about the differences between girls and boys?"

"No, no they did, I just - I forgot I was in the twenty-second century for a second. Not used to sharing showers with women, that's all."

"Thought you C-Sec boys got to shower with Asari cops?"

_Don't think about the Leda twins Don't think about the Leda twins Don't think about the Leda twins_

"Well, yeah, until the first human women in C-Sec complained about showering with the men. The higher ups reassigned the shower facilities between the human genders... and then the women complained that they couldn't shower with the Asari anymore."

"Heh."

After that chuckle, Jane went back to washing herself, barely paying Jensen any attention. He did the same, and started brushing his teeth. Save some time, he figured.

"So how'd you get that scar?"

Jensen spat out a glob of minty foam. "Which one?"

Jane pointed at her forehead.

"That one?" Jensen replied. "Some mercs attacked the building I worked at. One of them shot me in the head after tossing me through a pane of glass."

"Damn."

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Pick one."

"The big one on your back."

"...I got that one from a Venezuelan freedom fighter. Fucker had a heat knife, melted right past my armor."

"...Hope you made the guy pay for it."

"You bet. I even kept his knife as a souvenir."

"Are all the scars from Venezuela?"

"Most of them, yeah. The rest I got on Mars. And you? Where did the rest of your scars come from? Can't be anything major: you can barely see them, but you've got a lot."

One of the perks of the Sentinel System: It repaired severe cuts and tears with minimal scarring. "I got the rest of these during the Corporate Wars. A few more I got on Elysium during the Blitz."

"Huh. Read about the Corporate Wars. They don't mention you in the history books."

"It wasn't the kind of war that had heroes in it. Just pawns and their kings."

Jane and Jensen didn't say a word to one another until they got dressed, putting on their fresh clothes. Jensen put on his dark navy blue outfit, a plain buttom shirt with pants to match. The uniform, he noticed, had his name printed on it, although it didn't have any rank insignias. Jane just put on a pair of digital camo combat pants and a tanktop with the Deep Eyes logo (a frowning eye set in a circle) printed on it in light gray. As she tied her combat boots, she asked Jensen another question.

"What was it like? Elysium, I mean."

Jensen said nothing as he got up to leave.

"Well?" Jane insisted.

"Seven million and five hundred thousand people died after Haliat dropped Bellum gas bombs on every major city and the infected started raping and eating their friends and family. What do you _think_ that was like?"

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"Look, I get the whole 'let's bond over war stories' thing, but Elysium? That's something I don't ever, ever want to talk about."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

The door to the elevator hissed and parted, and Jensen walked out of the elevator and stepped into the Cargo bay. Nearby, Aki and Hein were arguing.

"Look, all I'm saying is that maybe we should start at zero point two percent?" suggested Aki as Hein made more adjustments to the 108. It lay wide open on a reclined examination chair in the cargo bay, patiently waiting for someone to wear it. "Start small, give the suit's VI a chance to adjust to Jensen's movements."

"Oh, no no no!" dismissed Hein. "Point two is just too low! His body can handle a full percent."

"According to the specs you sent me the 108 can lift a quarter of a ton at one percent! I'm a little worried that Jensen might accidentally hurt or maim Ryan."

"Ryan will be in full gear and allowed use of his Omni-Tools. He'll be fine!"

"Well, I'll have an application of Medi-Gel ready just in case. And a crash cart."

Jensen approached the pair, and Hein looked up as he noticed him.

"Ah, Jensen!" greeted Hein. "How good of you to join us! I take it you had a good night's sleep?"

"As good as I'm ever going to get, anyways." said Jensen as he approached the armor. "Let's just get this over with."

"Of course, of course, but first..." Hein grabbed two pairs of cables from spools in the back of the 108's open neck seal. "Mind plugging these into your data jacks?"

Jensen started backing away, staring at the cables as if they were venomous snakes. "Excuse me?"

"I want to synchronize the suit's mini-frame with your own neural hub, and give you a direct connection to the helmet's sensors so that its HUD doesn't interfere with your AR vision. I also want you to be able to alter the suit's VI's settings and programming, and while we're at it, make some updates to your security software. You're kind of out of date."

"If you think I'm going to let you in my head, think again."

Hein rolled his eyes. "Jensen, please. If I had wanted to corrupt and scramble your brains, I could have done it while you slept. Besides, I'm not the one constantly transmitting a codec signal."

"What? I'm not transmitting any-"

"Your frequency is 120.85." Hein said out loud. And then, Hein's voice echoed in Jensen's ear. _"It's a wonder no one's hacked you already, really. Your firewall has more holes in it than Swiss cheese."_

Jensen double checked the status of his wireless transmitter on his AR interface. It had indeed been turned on, but for the life of him, Jensen didn't know when and how. He had switched it off years ago to avoid getting hacked... He switched it back off, only for it to start transmitting again...

 _What in the hell?_ he thought. Adam inspected the data being transmitted through his wireless, but it was pure nonsense. What in blazes was going on?

"I think somebody already has." said Jensen, half-accusingly.

"Well then! I really should have a better look in there, shouldn't I?"

"...Fine. Do it."

"Excellent! Dr Ross..." Hein handed the cables to Aki, "would you do the honors?"

"...Alright," Aki complied, took the cables in her hand and went behind Jensen. "Hold still..." she said, as she lifted some of Jensen's hair away to have a better look. A pleasant shiver ran through his spine at she felt the back of his neck for the ports. "Now, where are they..."

Jensen mentally opened up the fake skin plates that covered the ports.

"Ah, there they are!" she said as she carefully plugged the cables. Satisfied that the connection was made, Hein proceeded to put the examination chair's back in the upright position, making the 108 'sit up'.

"Take off your shoes and sit." he commanded. Jensen complied, and once his fingers were fit inside the gloves, and he was comfortably lined up inside the suit, it closed down around him, sealing his body inside. His vision blacked out a for a moment, and his Neural Hub rebooted. The start-up screen was completely different.

LOAD BIOS

LOAD APS-OS v0.90b

MEMORY SET

SYSTEM STATUS OK

NEW HARDWARE DETECTED

SYNCHRONIZING...

"So far so good," said Hein as he stared into his datapad.

ERROR - SUBJECT'S ARMS NOT FOUND

ERROR- SUBJECT'S LEGS NOT FOUND

ERROR- ANOMALOUS HEART READINGS

CONTACTING EMERGENCY MEDICAL SERVICES - NOT FOUND

APPLYING MEDI-GEL - MEDI-GEL TANKS EMPTY - PLEASE REFILL

ERROR

"Oops, the APS doesn't know its dealing with a cyborg. Give me a moment..." Hein quickly typed in override commands in his datapad. "And... there."

OVERRIDE

SHINKAWA APS 108 OS v0.90b -Developer Edition

WELCOME, WEARER

An entirely different AR HUD appeared in Jensen's vision. While his original HUD's graphic design favored black and gold, the new one favored black, teal and orange, and was even more minimalist and dynamic. A variety of status windows appeared and vanished out of sight, waiting to be called upon when needed. Jensen looked at his hand and flexed his fingers. He had some difficulty in controlling them, not to mention keeping his forearm steady.

"Put the helmet on him, Doctor."

Jensen wondered why Ross was being so hands-on with this - hell, he could handle putting on a helmet by himself - but then he realized that it was no doubt a calculated move by Hein to mollify him. It had been six years since Jensen had been touched by a beautiful woman, or even been this close to one (Brea didn't quite count in his mind, considering the circumstances). He cursed himself: it had worked. He had pretty much stopped protesting getting plugged to the suit once Ross was tasked with it, just like he didn't mind so much as she put the helmet in its collapsed form around his jaw and neck.

HELMET CONNECTED

ARTEMIS SENSOR SYSTEM CONNECTED - DRIVERS FOUND

The helmet unfolded itself, its plates unfurling and sliding into place around Jensen's head. He was completely blind for a moment, until seven million micro-lasers projected a high resolution image into his eyes. He saw double for a moment, until the suit's VI adjusted the perception of depth. Jensen looked around, and there was this weird delay between the movement of his eyes and the movement of the image. He suspected he'd be getting a headache before long.

A crosshair appeared in the middle of Jensen's vision.

"Let's test out the IMREC's acquisition and tracking." said Hein. He was being quite professional, Jensen noticed. Aki took out a pencil light with her left hand and put it up in front of Jensen.

"Lock on to the light, please?"

"How?"

"Just focus the crosshair on the object. A targeting outline should appear over it."

"Alright..." after a split second, the suit's sensors did indeed lock on the pencil. "Wait, is this some kind of test to see if I can look around? What's the point of that?"

"Not quite, hold perfectly still, and don't try to follow the pencil with your eyes..." Ross moved the pencil around, and the cross-hair tracked it. "Is it still tracking?"

"Yes."

Aki moved the pencil, faster and faster until it was a blur, and the visual lock held. "How about now?"

"Still tracking."

"Good. Any issues with the helmet's micro projectors?"

"There's this weird delay between my eye's movements and the image..."

Hein typed a few commands on this datapad, correcting the mistake "How is it now, Jensen?"

"...Better."

"Alright then!" Hein exclaimed. "Now that we're certain you won't be walking into any walls, let's try and have you walk around. Get up, now..."

Jensen tried to rise from his seat, but found himself struggling against the suits own movements. It was almost as if it had a will of its own, like a child trying to please its parent by going overboard.

"Careful," warned Doctor Ross. "The 108's CNT fibers' power is explosive, even at one percent."

"It's kind of a wild horse," added Hein.

Jensen kept on struggling, compensating and sometimes overcompensating for the suits wild movements. Eventually it seemed to be getting the picture that Jensen wasn't trying to destroy the whole goddamned world, and after a few seconds it finally stopped fighting him at every movement. He finally got up from the seat, and took a few steps forward, or tried to. Now the suit thought he wanted to kick everything, and he stumbled and fell. Aki reached out to help him up, but Hein stopped her.

"Explosive power, remember?" he reminded the doctor.

Jensen scrambled on all fours, then managed to rise to a kneeling position... only for the suit to protest and decide that this was a fine pose to stay in.

"Yes, my dark knight. Arise, arise!" commanded Hein jokingly as he put on his best Evil Genius impression. "Muahahahah!"

" _Shut up._ " snapped Jensen. He didn't sound quite that menacing, considering he was still trying to get up.

"Well, now, maybe Dr. Ross was right?" Hein taunted. "Maybe I should have set this thing to extra easy mode, hm?"

"No, I can do this..." Jensen rose, but the suit overshot the muscle contractions again and he found himself doing an awkward somersault above both Ross and Hein. He landed almost perfectly, stumbling before finally standing upright. The suit still struggled a bit, but then he casually approached Hein as if it was no problem at all.

"Fantastic! See? I told you he could handle two percent!"

Aki's face blanched. "Two percent?! We agreed on one!"

"Pft! Details... In any case, I think we can move ahead in the schedule and begin with the sparring matches!"

"No! Absolutely not! Jensen will pulverize Ryan just by trying to give him a tap! I don't even want to imagine what he'll do to Jane!"

"Fine, then we'll plug in the Fandango and-"

"He can barely handle the suit at two percent and now you want to give him a _sword_?!"

Jensen cleared his throat politely. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"NO!" shouted Hein and Ross in unison.

"I mean yes, you do!" Aki corrected herself. "There should be a checklist of things to do in your HUD, but before you start anything, we should give you time to accustom yourself to moving inside the suit. I've got a set of basic of exercises for war amputees ready to go in Med-Sci."

"And what do you think I should do?" Jensen asked Hein.

Hein got a mad gleam in his eyes just then. "Oh, we should hit the ground running with some hand-to-hand combat and live fire exercises! Don't worry, I promise I'll set the LAM fuses to at least half a second. Sounds fun, eh? Eh?"

After a pregnant beat loaded with quiet horror, Jensen finally said. "So, war amp exercises, huh?"

Aki smiled and beckoned Jensen to follow her to the elevator. "Oh yes, mostly hand exercises to help hand eye coordination, picking up objects like eggs, tossing and catching them, that sort of thing..."

The elevator door closed behind them, and a severely disappointed Hein sulked, put his hands in his pockets and kicked some invisible dirt on the ground like a petulant five year old boy. Then he smiled, and said to himself:

"Oh well... I can wait."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

In the mess hall, Ryan was coming back with a bowl of spiced gruel to the table he, Vakarian and Zev had picked for breakfast. Vakarian, as it turned out, had quite a few stories to tell the crew, and he was in the middle of one.

"So let me get this straight," he said to Garrus. "Two Asari surprise Jensen in the shower, start kissing his chest and..."

"And he politely pushes them away. I know, I know..." finished Garrus as he toyed with his dextro paste. Opposite sat Zev, who was eating the same thing through a straw (or Emergency Induction Ports, as the Quarians insisted on calling them).

"I... have a hard time believing that," said Zev. "Bonding with, or even just being pleasured by a pair of Asari is a a highly sought after experience... to have such on opportunity simply fall into his lap and to turn it away? I dare say he lied to you, and happily ravished them!"

Ryan sat down next to the Quarian, and took a spoonful of the gruel. This Lelia girl could work magic with plain synthetic food, and Ryan was quite glad Hein had assigned her to the kitchen. Still, this story was a bit more interesting than the food: "Well, I might have done the same thing in his position. Not every man is into women, you know?"

Zev laughed. "Neither was I, until I met an Asari! They have a way of... making one more flexible. And receptive."

Garrus continued: "I know. Which is why I didn't believe him at first, but then... the twins were always the 'screw them and leave them' type, see? Shortly after Jensen told me the story they started acting really, REALLY weird around him."

"I take it they were angry with him? When women are scorned..." asked Zev.

"Nah, it was more like that they couldn't understand how he had gotten away from them, and they began a campaign of advances that, well... bordered on creepy stalker behavior. When they started with the sexting I understood that he hadn't been making the story up."

"Hey guys!" chimed in Neil as he sat down with his own serving of gruel. "What are we talking about?"

"According to Garrus, Jensen turned down the advances of a pair of Bisexual incestuous police Asari with big hips." supplied Ryan.

"Twins, in fact!" added Zev.

Neil snorted. "Yeah, right! Pics or didn't happen, pal."

"As you wish." Garrus tapped the side of his visor, 'typed' in the empty air, and handed it to Neil. "You're lucky I'm so persuasive: Jensen was going to _delete_ those."

Neil put the curved strip of metal on his head and kept it there with his left hand. The ocular projectors painted his retina with a slideshow of racy pictures of two Asari practically begging Neil to join them right through the projector. The pictures got less and less safe for work (and some of them involved cake, of all things), culminating in a final picture in which they were pleasuring each other.

"...Sweet mother of- Ryan, you have got to see this!"

"Pass," answered the large man. Zev tapped Neil's shoulder, and Neil happily let the Quarian have a look.

"Oh my..." said the mechanic.

"Anyways, the Leda twins changed tactics when the sexting didn't seem to get Jensen interested. After that came the love letters - I haven't got those - written in some VERY purple and increasingly... obsessive prose, and when that didn't work they started sneaking into his house.

Ryan winced. "Uh oh. That couldn't have ended well."

"Jensen finally put his foot down and told them once and for all that he wasn't interested. They didn't take it very well and uh... long story short? They got kicked out of the service for sexual harassment."

"Damn... is this... typical for the guy?" asked Ryan.

"You have no idea." said Garrus as Zev handed him his visor back. He put it back on, and noticed Jensen and Doctor Ross going into the kitchen together. Jensen was walking very slowly, and Ross seemed to be walking him through every step. Neil followed Garrus' gaze.

"Huh, speak of the Devil," he said. "I see Jensen isn't tearing the ship apart. I guess Hein made the right call letting him have a go at it. Speaking of which, how's your new armor, Vakarian? Must feel pretty good, since you're wearing it during breakfast."

"You know us turians: we never go anywhere without armor." Garrus checked himself out. Ryan had successfully mounted the parts of a standard US Marine Corps basic MIPS onto the Agent mk I's basic frame. It was a bit heavy and he didn't have any motorized joints to make up for the extra mass, but he figured he'd get used to that soon enough. "I feel a hell of a lot less naked, too. Agent I's aren't known for their resilience." he turned to Ryan. "Thanks, by the way."

"No worries." responded Ryan. "Hey Neil, you gonna play with your gruel or you're going to eat it?"

"Eh... I don't know, it smells better than usual but it still looks like a bowl of snot, you know?"

"Trust me, our new chef worked miracles on the stuff. I came back for seconds."

"Yeah well, big as you are you NEED your seconds." Neil took a careful sip of the stuff. "Hm! not bad. I mean, it still looks and FEELS like a bowl of snot, but it's tasty snot now. Still gonna fry me a couple of eggs once Doc and Jensen are done with... whatever it is they're doing in the kitchen."

"Well, it seems to be Jensen is trying to impress the good doctor." said Zev suggestively.

"Oh really? How?"

Zev nooded in the direction of the kitchen. "By juggling three of your eggs, apparently. And quite proficiently, as a matter of fact."

Neil's eyes widened as he turned his head to the kitchen, and Jensen was indeed juggling three of the eggs he had bought at the supermarket with his own money. He darted up in a hurry, nearly spilling his bowl of gruel on the table. "No no no I paid a thousand credits for these!"

Sensing a potential confrontation, Ryan and Garrus followed him. Zev, sensing some incoming hilarity, followed them as well.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

Aki laughed, amused at Jensen's display of dexterity. "Well, I'm impressed Mr. Jensen: I didn't think you'd be able to tackle something so advanced as juggling so soon."

"Well, it was off to a rocky start, but I managed to tweak some of the suit's code. It should give me less trouble, now.

"I didn't know you were a skilled hardsuit programmer."

Jensen didn't know he was, either. "I... guess I'm full of surprises. Have to admit, though, the hands aren't giving me too many problems."

"That's because the gloves are powered with strips of buckygel rather than CNT fibers. If anything those should improve your dexterity quite a bit."

"What's with the, um..."

"Huge fingernails? According to the user's manual..." she brought up the 108's manual on her datapad. "Those are supposed to be - Oh my."

"What?"

"Oxygen plasma torches."

"I have plasma claws?"

"Apparently."

"Huh. Neat."

"Well, I think we can forgo the rest of the basic exercises and move on straight to the gym. I want to see how much control you have while shadow-boxing. You're obviously comfortable enough with the suit."

"Hm, I haven't had breakfast yet. Mind if I make something for myself first?"

"Oh! Not at all, in fact I'm curious to see-"

"WHAT THE **FUCK** ARE YOU DOING WITH MY EGGS?!" screamed Neil. The sudden noise gave Jensen a bit of a start and - apparently - the suit as well. Jensen briefly lost control, and he only managed to save one egg. The other two were splattered on the floor.

Correction, Jensen hadn't saved any eggs at all: the third one had been crushed under his grasp. So much for improved dexterity.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

In the Drive Core room, Tali found herself face to face with Captain Grey (although, much to her confusion, he wasn't the actual captain of the ship. That honor apparently belonged to Dr Ross, although it seemed Hein was in charge - so strange, these humans). He just barged in, interrupted her work, and questioned her about the Geth, her people, and their history... as if he expected every Quarian to be walking encyclopedias, ready to answer him on the spot.

...Of course, Tali _did_ have a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of the geth, her people and their history, so she was perfectly capable of obliging him. Father had been insistent on giving her personal lessons on subjects far above her grade. And while perfect grades earned her a piece of fruit, any failure cost her dinner, so she was really, _really_ motivated to soak in all that lore.

"Any tactical advice you can give me?" asked Grey.

"I do. Remember what I said about Geth programs 'sharing' brainpower? The larger platforms have more programs in them than the smaller ones."

"So if I take them out first, the rest of a Geth Squad's tactical abilities will be diminished?"

"Exactly. Also, while the Geth platforms seem impressive, they're actually a bit... cheap. They're not quite as sturdy as they look, and they've made up for this by having superior kinetic barriers. Slow hand-to-hand attacks work well on them, if you manage to get close enough..."

"That'll make Jane very happy."

"And of course any anti-shield attacks, from Overload Omni-Tool apps to Phasic rounds, are a definite must when dealing with Geth."

Grey scratched his chin, mentally going over the Durendal's equipment. "...We haven't got any Phasic mods. I'll see to it that everyone in the squad has Thundaga v2 installed on their Wrist Halos, then."

...

_Jensen groaned, mournfully. "I'm sorry..."_

_..._

"Is something wrong, Zorah?" asked Grey.

"Hm? I was just thinking about Jensen... I'm a little worried about him."

"Don't be. If he turns out to be a threat, me and the Deep Eyes are more than capable of taking him out," he said without a hint of malice. "We fought his kind before."

"Uh, I didn't mean... Really, you think you can kill him? I've heard..."

"Jensen's CNT skin can only stand up to a sustained barrage of a Serpent Particle Accelerator Carbine for zero point three seconds." he nodded at his Serpent Rifle, leaning against the wall within arm's reach. "A full second with that... monstrosity Hein gave him. A power shot would vaporize him. Also, CNT materials deform at temperatures exceeding thirty five hundred degrees celsius, which just so happens to be a bit less than the core temperature of a Firaga v3 Incineration bolt application standard in any Marine Omni-Tool, not to mention the edge of a Heat Knife. We've got plenty of those, too."

Tali tried to hide her horror at Grey's cold callousness. "You'll... burn him alive?"

"Failing that, we can always space him. Don't worry, we've put a lot of thought into this. We in the United States Marine Corps, we've got a plan to kill everybody we meet."

Despite herself, Tali found herself imagining Jensen floating helplessly in the vacuum of space, his body burned and melted, his expression frozen in horrible agony. The thought was intrusive and unbearable, and she tried to repress it. The sight of it in her mind's eye only gave her a sinking feeling in her chest, the meaning of which confused her greatly. Was this... sorrow?

 _"Do not put your trust in aliens,"_ her cynical side spoke harshly, with Rael's voice, in the back of her head. _"even as they show you kindness. For you are nothing to them but a useful slave. You may think me a cynic, my child, but the Pilgrimage has shown you, has it not? The only ones you can trust are your fellow Quarians, and no one else."_

Her mother, Shana, spoke in softly in the corner of her thoughts. _"Adam has listened to you, he cared, and proved this small, precious thing to you. And he saved you, my precious little bird! Will you say nothing as this man plots his death?"_

 _"Yes...are you_ **really** _that much of an ungrateful little bitch?"_ accused Hein's voice, mockingly. Damn him! Would Tali hear him in her private thoughts, too?!

"Permission to speak freely?" requested Tali.

"You're not military, you can speak freely if you want to."

"I don't think Jensen will try to harm you. He saved my life, even if he didn't have to. If anything, he might even come to your defense should the ship come under attack."

"Of course he saved you. You were to be a key witness in a case against Saren."

"Well, yes, but since everyone loathes the very core of us Quarians I probably wouldn't have been called to court, anyways, and-"

"As for Jensen 'coming to the ship's defense', well, I'd expect him to. After all, we're holding his robot girlfriend hostage."

"...What?! You mean the woman in sick bay?... and she's a robot?!"

"Hmph, of course, Hein didn't tell you. He roped Jensen into becoming his latest science project by threatening to let Brea... I guess 'die' is the proper term. I suppose Jensen felt some kind of kinship with the thing. Tell me, what kind of man puts his life on the line for a robot? Because he folded quickly when Hein made his ultimatum."

Tali's feelings of remorse quickly gave way to outrage. Outrage, yes... and something more poisonous.

Jealousy.

"I... I don't know." she answered.

"And Brea can still potentially go non-functional. Once that happens, nothing will stop him from attempting to-"

"From what?" said Hein as he walked up behind Grey. "Take over the ship? Why does everyone suspect the worst of him, hm? It must be the beard. That fine, Evil Overlord Beard worthy of Cesare Borgia. Don't listen to him, Tali. He's just jealous that his ex has got her hands all over him."

Grey scowled. "I am NOT jealous of a cyborg, sir."

"Of cooourse you aren't. He's only a tall, dark and handsome man that likes to brood mysteriously. Aki _totally_ won't be peeling off her panties for him, no siree! Anyways, Ms. Zorah, would you do me the honors of accepting a challenge from a fellow hacker? I have this digital wargame set up, a fortress of code I suspect will take you a whole MINUTE to breach."

Tali was glad at the sudden change of subject. And a bit galled at the veiled insult that doubled as a challenge to her skills as a hacker. "I'm game. I've finished with the core's new stabilizing algorithms. We should be able to reach Caleston by tomorrow night instead of the day after tomorrow in the morning.

"Fantastic!" Hein beamed, but then he became pensive. "Hm, that means I'll have to step up with Jensen's training. Oh well. I take it you're willing?"

"Sure. What's the system will I be breaching? Your PC? The VI core?"

"Jensen's head." Hein answered matter-of-factly.

Tali blinked. "What."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

"I love this ship!" exclaimed Neil, sitting at the kitchen's counter. "Only on the Durendal can you get the six million dollar man wearing a six billion credit power armor to cook you breakfast. Although I am wondering what's taking so freakin' long? Chop-chop!"

Ryan, sitting next to him, rolled his eyes. "Right, keep antagonizing the multibillion dollar cyborg, Neil, I'm sure nothing bad will happen."

"Hey, he broke those eggs, I'm perfectly justified in grilling him for it."

"He was juggling them just fine 'till you surprised him."

"Meh, details. He was holding the smoking gun!"

"Remind me why I agreed to this?" asked Jensen as he added some ketchup to the synthetic brown rice in the hot frying pan.

"Because I was curious to see if you could handle basic day to day tasks like cooking while wearing power armor," Ross answered. She was on her knees, spraying disinfectant where the eggs had landed. She was very particular about keeping the kitchen as germ free as possible. "Also, We feel really bad about Neil's eggs, don't we?"

"...Yeah, sure. Not sure if Hein will appreciate me getting cooking grease on the suit's gloves."

"That is exactly the sort of thing Hein lives for." said Ryan with a smile. "Oh, and uh, we haven't been properly introduced. Gunnery Sergeant Ryan Whitaker. I take care of the personal armor on the ship. Hein tells me we'll be having a little sparring match later today. Looking forward to it."

Jensen simply saluted with his spatula. "Likewise."

"So Jensen," asked Garrus half-mockingly. "Do you take requests? Because I'm just dying for a field mushrump fried in seasoned butter and-"

"You'll get nothing and you'll enjoy it," answered Jensen dryly.

"Oh fine be that way...I guess you don't want your Omni-Tool back?" Garrus took out Lawson's Omni-Tool and waggled it between his fingers meaningfully.

Jensen eyed Hein's men. "...Does it still have the bugs?"

"Well, yeah."

"...Keep it, then."

"Gotcha... Maybe Zorah can do something with it."

"I could have a look at it, if you like?" offered Zev.

"Oh! uh, nah, this will require a woman's touch, if you know what i mean..."

"Ah, need something to start up a conversation?" Zev nodded approvingly. "I understand... But I must warn you, Tali'Zorah is practically nobility in the Flotilla. She might consider you beneath her station."

Neil was aghast. "Wait wait wait, our new grease monkey is a prin- Ryan did you know Tali is a princess? Holy shit I had her elbow deep in the Copperhead's left engine yesterday! I didn't even say thank you!"

"Looks like it's off with your head, little man." said Ryan jokingly.

"For treating a Zorah like a common serf?' Zev clucked his tongue three times. "Most certainly."

Garrus chuckled. "Hear that Jensen? We saved a princess!"

"Hm." Jensen barely answered, too focused on his cooking to pay any attention. The food was pretty much done, but now he was focused on the presentation, as suggested by Dr. Ross... She came up behind him, inspecting his work.

"Almost done?" she asked eagerly.

"Almost... just need to put those bits of cheese there..."

"Oh! and the fake seaweed..."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Seaweed?" Neil was getting a bit worried, now. "What do you need seaweed for? It's a freakin' omelette!"

Aki ignored him. "Oh that's perfect, that's perfect! May I do the honors?"

"Go ahead." answered Jensen.

Aki served up the dish to Neil, and Garrus and Zev huddled next to the pilot to see what he would be eating. It was a few balls of rice sculpted to look like a cute little teddy bear with bits of cheese for a muzzle and paws. It looked like it was sleeping comfortably in a blanket and on a pillow made out of flat omelettes, sweetly dreaming of... whatever little teddy bears dreamed of. The thing was, simply put, too cute to eat.

"His name is Timmy." said Aki with a smile. "His mommy tucked him into bed after reading him _Le Petit Prince_ , and now he dreams of tiny planets populated by fantastic quirky people."

Neil tentatively poked it with his fork. Maybe he could just eat the blanket?

"If you eat it, then you're evil and have no soul." said Aki, her voice soft and filtered through an insincere smile.

"And if you don't," said Jensen as he tweaked his helmet's external speakers to make his voice sound deeper. " **I will be very disappointed.** " For a brief second Neil thought Jensen sounded like some kind of menacing, ancient Buddhist demi-god. He tried to poke the rice-bear with the fork again, only for him to imagine it waking up, seeing this giant human looming over it, and silently pleading with big round black seaweed eyes to spare it.

"Why. Why are you doing this to me?" Neil asked Aki.

"You made me clean up those eggs." she answered simply. "Jensen, I think it's time we moved on to the gym?"

Jensen finished washing the grease off of his armored gloves in the sink and picked up a ration bar for himself. " **Right behind** **-** I mean, right behind you."

As the doctor and the cyborg left, Neil simply stared at his dish.

"Well?" asked Ryan. "Aren't you going to eat it? That's two hundred and fifty credits worth of eggs cooling in your bowl, there."

"For shame!" protested Zev with mock outrage. "Look at the presentation! This is a work of art that belongs in a museum."

"...I'm not sure I want to be the guy that devours little teddy bears in their sleep..."

Ryan stiffled a laugh. " _Nobody_ wants to be that guy."

"Although I am pretty hungry too." continued Neil. "Maybe I should just eat more of that spiced gruel and freeze this in stasis gel? On the other hand it's a waste of eggs... but on the other OTHER hand I..."

Ryan burst out laughing a little, and he patted Neil on the shoulder. "I feel for you, brother."

Garrus groaned. "Right, well, while you guys struggle with the moral decision of whether or not to eat _food_ , I've got to see someone about a faulty Omni-Tool."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

"So, you can cook?" asked Aki, keeping her distance.

"It's a hobby among many. I like to keep my hands busy. Keeps my mind off things."

Jensen dodged and weaved around a flurry of punches thrown at him by his holographic opponent in the gym's central mat. While he had managed to get the 108's limbs to obey him at two percent output, he had doubts about the torso, and wisely reduced the suit's output before he started practicing his boxing. This proved to be wise, as the suit kept trying to break his spine even as he ducked. After a few corrective tweaks, Jensen brought the suit back to its original output. It started to feel like a second skin, now.

"Does it help with the PTSD?" Aki asked empathetically.

The hologram landed a blow on Jensen's head, and its kinetic barriers 'pushed' it, simulating a hit. Jensen barely felt it, but it annoyed him how easily his concentration had been broken.

"...I don't know what you're talking about." he replied as he started another simulated bout.

"I've been told you were on Elysium when the Blitz started. I've... heard how terrible it was down there."

"I don't want to talk about Elysium."

"You're displaying avoidant behavior, that's one criteria."

"I just don't see how Elysium is any of your business - no offense."

Aki nodded. "You have nightmares - intense ones, judging by what I saw in the Dream Catcher's recording, and recurring ones by your own admission. And you zoned out for a second in the elevator yesterday, with an expression I happen to be very familiar with: You were having a flashback. And since it's been a while since Elysium, I can assume you've been suffering a lot longer than a month. If you don't have PTSD, you have something a lot like it."

Jensen said nothing and kept on shadow-boxing. The hologram's difficulty spiked, and Jensen started punching back.

"...Okay then. Give me the silent treatment if you feel like it, but please, let me give you this bit of advice: It helps to talk about it."

Jensen punched the hologram in its light bulb shaped head, and the difficulty level of the program rose accordingly.

"Your door is always open, I know."

"Not just my door. The Deep Eyes have been through some horrible things on Mars, and Akuze drove them all over the edge. They've been dealing with it for a lot longer than you have, and you might find some solace in talking to kindred spirits. Or you stay in a corner and brood. It's up to you."

"I don't brood."

"Yes you do." Aki said with a smile. "If they had brooding contests, you'd get first prize."

The hologram fought harder, and Jensen stepped up to its challenge, breathing harder. At first he thought it was because of the exercise, but then he realized something was wrong when he started gasping.

"Jensen?" Aki walked approached Jensen, worried. "Are you... are you having a panic attack?"

"Can't..." Jensen gasped. "Can't...breathe."

Aki dismissed the sparring hologram and came up face to face to Jensen. She put her finger on the four emergency switches on the helmet, two on each side of the jaw piece. The helmet's faceplate popped open with a hiss, revealing Jensen's face from brow to upper lip. He breathed in the fresh air with relief.

"I think you were running on the suit's on-board air-supply this whole time," said Aki. "Didn't the suit's HUD warn you?"

"No. I..." Jensen took a deep breath through the nose. "I guess there's still some kinks to work out of the suit's drivers."

Jensen realized that Aki hadn't quite taken her hands off the helmet's jaw piece, and found Aki staring at his eyes. He wasn't sure what she was trying to do - making sure he was okay, or looking to have a moment - but he thought her dark brown eyes were lovely and -

 _"FIRMWARE UPDATE OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE!"_ screamed Hein over codec. _"WOO!"_

At the same time an augmented reality blue monochrome video feed window of Hein appeared between Jensen and Aki, but his insane grin quickly dissolved as Jensen's Neural Hub rebooted. He lost his balance and fell forward, and crashed into the good doctor, who yelped in surprise. Adam managed to keep himself from crushing her with his weight, and the back of her head landed on the mat... which wasn't all that thick.

"Ow..." Aki winced.

The Neural Hub had fully rebooted, and Hein's face reappeared.

"Welcome to Jensen's mind version 2.0! Updates include - Hellooooo, what's this? Gasp! Are you trying to force yourself on the good doctor, Jensen? Stranger Danger! Stranger Dangers! Or, or... wait a minute?

Jensen's smart vision switched on, along with the CASIE. It took stock of Aki's respiration, heart rate, and even her blush response at the situation...

"...Ooh! She's consenting! Is this the Florence Nightingale Effect in... effect!? Already?! Wow, you and Ross work fast!" Evidently, Hein decided to interpret the data in his own sick little way. "But hey, don't let me interrupt! Feel free to let nature take its course and have wild monkey sex as god intended. I'll watch. You know, in the interest of science."

"Shut up." Adam said through gritted teeth. Whatever Hein did, it set off some pain receptors in his skull.

"I-I didn't say anything!" protested Aki, a little embarrassed and offended.

"Not you. Hein's got direct access to my Neural Hub's comm package. He's taunting me through it." Jensen rose on his feet, and helped Ross get up.

"Actually," continued Hein. "I'm talking to you through your datajacks via the suit's own telecomm package. _Much_ better bandwidth. Where was I? Ah yes! I took the liberty of updating your Neural Hub's security along with the suit's. We might come across Geth, and I don't want them to have a look inside your brain."

 _"My implants don't work that way."_ answered Jensen subvocally as he verbally asked Aki if she was okay. _"The geth would need to have pre-installed hardware installed in my brain in order to mess with it."_

"True enough, but they would definitely take control of some of your implants, or maybe just disable them, Or maybe they'll just take over the suit's functions through you and make it twist and bend in awkward angles and mangle you. Does that sound fun to you?"

It was, Jensen had to admit, a very chilling thought. "Not really, no."

"Of course, the Geth being what they are, any security I come up with without an active Geth to work with isn't going to last long. Thankfully, we've got the next best thing. Ms. Zorah?"

Another window appeared, displaying Tali'Zorah's head and chest. Her image and Hein's were displayed side by side, obscuring most of Jensen's vision. "I'm ready," she said.

"Ready for what, exactly?" asked Jensen.

Hein smiled as he gave Tali the go ahead. "Tali and I are going to be playing a little wargame inside your system. She'll try and attack it and extract a file I've copied in your wet drive, which I've designated... 'Goal'. If she succeeds, I'll just plug the security exploit she used. It should take a couple of min-"

"Done." said Tali.

"...of... minutes. Wait, what? prove it. What are the contents of the file?"

"It's a picture of a cat and something written in mangled Terran English about being inside something and hacking someone's something. I can't translate it."

Hein seemed utterly confused, to Jensen's delight. "How did you... what, how...You didn't even trigger a trace!" Hein typed something on an unseen terminal, checking on some logs, no doubt. "It should at least have taken you two minutes to - Oh, ok ok. You dirty little cheater you. You realize, of course, that this means war..."

Jensen wasn't looking forward to getting another unpleasant reboot. " _Hey, if you're going to force a restart on my systems, you might want to give me a proper warning. I nearly crushed Aki."_

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just going to make alterations to your firewall, no reboots necessary. Feel free to keep up your exercises. And... I see that you've managed to get the 108 to behave itself. That was quicker than expected. Have you tried practicing your free running?"

_"...There's nowhere near enough room in here for a parkour set."_

"True, but there's a holographic gymnastics program besides the sparring one. Going through it should prepare the 108 for the acrobatics involved in a chase. Have fun, Jensen. Oh and uh, one more thing? Don't worry about your comm package transmitting anymore. I've shut it down."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

The Electronic Warfare Lab consisted of a room half the size of a classroom, with a black monolith (with the words GIBSON MULTICORE Model 95 carved onto its face) in the middle of it connected by cables to the twelve workstations covered in plastic sheets. A pair of larger tubes fed it coolant.

The EW Lab apparently had seen little use, which Tali thought odd since for all intents and purposes this looked like the ship's VI core. Something that important should be attended to at all times. She and Hein had picked their workstations, and were now hard at work coming up with a resilient Anti-Geth firewall to protect not only Jensen and his suit, but also any piece of networked hardware on the Durendal, including the ship's computers. Jensen, apparently, got top priority.

After a few rewrites, Hein updated Jensen's firewalls and simply said, "Go."

Tali's hand darted all over her haptic interface. She moved around shapes representing her macros, apps and viruses over a visual representation of Jensen's internal network. It had a fascinating (if confusing) file structure (at least judging by its visual representation), but she gained access to it and made a copy of the goal file in eight seconds without triggering a trace. That was about two more seconds longer than the last time.

Hein grumbled as he inspected her work, and made the necessary adjustments to Jensen's security on a plastic keyboard, a process that took around ten to fifteen minutes. "And to top it off, a twenty-eight key password. Go."

A music file. 12 seconds.

More corrections. "Go."

A video file. 18 seconds. Tali had to admit, this was getting a bit difficult.

"Go," he challenged her again. This time he had managed to find another potential exploit and it took her 30 seconds to get to the goal file.

"Go," he taunted. This time it had taken her 58 seconds to reach the goal. She was just about to grab it when a file folder caught her eye.

ALBUM, it was called.

Inside of it were pictures, snapshots taken across centuries, organized in file folders marked by year from 2027 to 2031, and from 2175 to 2183.

If someone had asked her what possessed her to make a copy of that folder in her Wrist Halo right then and there, she probably would have stammered in uncertainty, and probably would have muttered "curiosity?"

 _"Colonel?"_ Aki's voice came up on the intercom. _"Jensen tells me that Tali triggered a trace. He says he didn't catch her, though."_

Tali cursed herself. She had lingered on that file folder for a bit too long.

"Ah ha!" Hein happily exclaimed. "Progress! Say, how is Jensen doing on the vaulting horses?"

_"Actually, we moved on to the Pommel Horse a while ago. He's...very flexible. And coordinated. The 108's almost perfectly in sync with his movements, now."_

"Excellent. Jensen? Think you can actively fight against Tali's hacking attempts from here on in?"

 _"Sure."_ he answered.

"While you're exercising."

_"...You must be joking."_

"Think of it as training your concentration and your multitasking abilities. You can bet the Geth will try to hack you even as they shoot you."

_"Point taken... Fine, I'll try. Jensen out."_

Hein clapped his hands once. "Fantastic! Ms Zorah, your challenge level just got higher. Think you can keep up with a wired cyborg with that fancy-shmancy haptic interface?"

"I stand a better chance than you do with that clacking plastic antique - er, sir."

"Heh."

Tali brought out her best scripts, and she managed to stay undetected two more times. On the third, Jensen was on to her, but she still succeeded in her goal. On the fourth, Jensen had managed to plug the many security holes that she exploited by himself, and she stepped up her game, seeding Trojans inside Jensen's systems, attacking from different routes in the ship's wireless system and even used a hundred instances of her Drone's VI as decoys. She kept succeeding for a while longer, but then something weird started happening.

Jensen was now finding her Trojans - even the dormant ones - and deleted them one by one, shutting down her avenues of access, all except one.

"This is it Ms. Zorah." said Hein. "There's no way you can get through now. I'm ready to bet that there's no way you can get the goal file this time. Think you're up for it?"

"You're on."

Tali started the hack again, and in the blink of an eye the trace found her, and all of the tools she had uploaded in the workstation shut down one by one. She had failed.

She rebooted the machine, and tried again, this time in full force with over two hundred dedicated processes ready to crack Jensen's defenses.

ACCESS DENIED.

The machine shut down completely. She rebooted, and tried again.

ACCESS DENIED

And again.

ACCESS DENIED

And Again...

STOP THAT

The machine shut down again, and try as she might Tali couldn't get it to start up. All she got was an unresponsive blue screen. She slumped against her chair, feeling defeated.

Hein patted her on the shoulder. "Don't feel too bad. The goal was always to figure out a defense against Quarian electronics. Consider the fact that it took both me and Jensen, in total, seventy eight tries to finally keep you at bay. A 78 - 5 win/loss record is not bad at all. In fact, you should feel very proud!"

Tali looked at Hein, and wondered if he was being sincere. As far as she could tell, he was, and it felt so odd... In the same situation Father would have been disappointed that Tali did not completely disabled Jensen and make herself the clear winner. He would not have yelled. Nor would he have struck her... He would have glared at her hard, boring shame into her skull with his eyes, and would have simply said: _"You WILL do better."_

To be congratulated for a defeat, that was... an alien experience.

"I'll do better next time." she said.

"Is that so? Well, you're most certainly welcome to try. But don't break your skull over it. Take the time to reflect on the experience. Who knows? When next you face the Geth, they'll find you to be a little bit more dangerous than before."

Tali saw wisdom in that, and took it to heart. "Hm...You sound like my mother."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The door chimed, and Hein called out to the door in a sing-song voice."Who is iiiiiit?"

"It's Vakarian. Veetor said Tali was here?"

"That she is!" Hein stuffed his plastic keyboard in his coat, where it seemed to vanish. Tali wondered how big were his pockets, and just how much stuff he had in there. "Come on in! But don't touch anything! I'll know!"

Vakarian opened the door and came in, and Tali rose to greet him.

"I have some business to take care of in the CIC," said Hein as he crossed the door. "Feel free to take a break, Zorah. You've earned it."

"Hey there," greeted Garrus. "It's good to see you're doing okay."

"I can't quite believe the good fortune I've been having lately. I get rescued, patched up, someone comes along and gives me work and offers to rescue some of my fellow Pilgrims in danger... It's too good to be true, and I'm almost afraid that the universe is playing a cruel joke on me..."

"And you're worried about the punchline. Yeah, I know how you feel."

"You needed to see me for something?"

"Yeah." Garrus took a black and red Omni-Tool from his legpack. "I need your help cracking this Omni-Tool's security."

Tali took it in her hands. It was a modified Nexus X, or at least it looked like the one. The weight of it seemed wrong. "Of course. It's the least I owe you. Lost your password?"

"Actually, Jensen looted this off an Alliance Intel Agent he beat into a coma and he believes the data inside could be the key in uncovering a conspiracy responsible for the death of Commander Shepard. It's got some explosive charges, Black ICE, and the data inside of it is probably encrypted with a million-bit key."

Tali just glared at him. There it was. The punchline. It had to be.

"No pressure or anything." he quipped.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

In the Hangar bay, Ryan was putting on his Kodiak Armor, a variant of the standard Mechanized Infantry Protection System (Or MIPS for short). This heavy variant weighed three times as much as the standard one due to the inch-thick plating of composite sandwich of carbon fiber, ceramic, and shock absorbing gel that, along with a enhanced shield system, turned him into a nearly invincible juggernaut. Despite the souped up mechanized joints and the extra strips of electroactive buckygel, the suit's considerable weight slowed him down quite a bit. The Kodiak's thickness made Ryan's tall broad frame that much more intimidating, and at one meter ninety-eight, and a hundred and twenty kilograms, he was plenty intimidating already.

On the other end of spectrum, Jane was putting on her Corvo MK IV. That was actually an original EU Spec Ops light powered suit designed to increase a person's mobility by sixty percent. It was made of a fairly supple two millimeter black material, with hard plastic plates bolted onto the legs and forearms with gold studs (which were prominent on the codpiece and the around the knees). Claws were welded onto the feet, at the toes. Sand colored straps were wrapped around the thighs and chest, supporting the webbing... and making the suit that much more snug around her slightly amazonian contours. At one meter sixty-eight, she looked positively tiny compared to Ryan.

"I hate this fucking thing." said Jane as she put on the Revenant tactical mask. She wasn't comfortable with the Corvo's original intimidating helmet, since it covered her head completely, and its micro-laser projectors gave her a headache. "The EU and the Alliance forces may like to have their women strut around in full-body spandex but I certainly don't. The Corvo's... snug in all the wrong places. I'm surprised the thing doesn't squeak when I move."

"Hey now, you don't need to be ashamed: you look damn good in that black spandex." Ryan tried to joke, but Jane had body issues ever since she saw what those Red Tribals did to Gainsborough back on Mars. They had singled her out as a 'prize', and while she had survived the ordeal she would never, ever be the same. And then there was Lockheart... Needless to say, Mars had left Jane with an extremely cynical view of women in the military, and she hated wearing armor that declared her sex to the enemy.

Or her friends.

"Yeah, you flattering my body means exactly jack shit, you big faggot."

"Hey, don't you watch the vids? Us fags know fabulous when we see it." Ryan put on a slight lisp, or at least tried to. "And huh... girl you look fabulous!"

"That was the worst impression of a camp gay I've ever seen."

"I know. I'm the shame of my kind."

"Hmph. Yeah... aren't we both?" she said, mournfully.

Ryan decided to change the subject. "You remember what we're supposed to do?"

"Yeah, yeah. You start by smacking Jensen around to see if the 108's Smart Skin can protect him from blunt force trauma. If he manages to beat you without pulping you, I'm supposed to get him to cover his weak spots against a heat knife."

Grey and Neil walked up to their lockers, and proceeded to put on their suits. Neil just used the standard MIPS, while Grey used the Wolflord variant. This one was originally geared for Zero-G combat thanks to its thrusters, but it was found to be effective in countering a biotic's levitation attack.

"...don't know what these two are supposed to do." said Jane, confused.

"Actually, we don't know either." said Neil. The boss told us to suit up ASAP. I guess he wants me to teach Jensen how to dodge my bullets or something? Don't know what use I'll be in a hand-to-hand exercise. By the way, love the new suit. One of Hein's finest investments, if you ask me."

"Fuck you. And fuck him, too. I can fight just as well in an MIPS."

"Nobody's doubting that." said Grey. "But Hein likes new toys."

"So let him put this thing on, then!"

"Urgh!" Neil's face pursed as if he had just swallowed a spoonful of bile. "Don't say stuff like that, he just might come on down and do it for giggles!"

" _Anyway,_ why do you think he's having us all suit up, sir?" asked Ryan.

"Tali'Zorah just shaved off maybe twelve hours off her trip-"

"God bless that little miracle worker and her helpers." Neil beamed as he put in his chest piece.

"-Don't interrupt. I'm guessing that Hein's timetable got thrown off and he wants us to hit Jensen with everything we've got, all at once. But that's just a guess."

Neil scratched his nose. "Trying to guess what Hein is planning is kinda like predicting lottery results. You got one in a billion chance to get it right."

"There's Jensen." said Ryan, nodding at the opening elevator door.

"With the Doc and Vakarian in tow." commented Neil. "I don't see Hein, though. Figured he'd want front row seats to see his new toy in action right away."

Grey rose an eyebrow. Hein would indeed have been here first. "Have you seen him?"

"Just saw him in the CIC earlier, talking to someone over the comm station after he personally ordered me to suit up."

"Well, since he isn't here and he didn't give neither Neil nor I any details... Jane, Ryan, go with the original menu. Try and give Jensen a workout, will you?

**~[h+]~**

* * *

"Honestly, I think we can skip this particular bit of training." said Aki, worried. "The 108 is pretty much a second skin to you now."

"And yet you're still worried that I'll hurt someone." said Adam. He looked down at his feet, and saw that someone had set up several fighting mats on the cargo bay's floor. He briefly wondered why they couldn't do this in the gym, and it occurred to him that maybe a small gym wouldn't be big enough for two men in power suits.

"Aren't you?"

"... All the time. Look, if it'll make you feel better I can set the suit's output to zero point zero one."

"I'd rather we didn't do this at all... You're still pretty strong even without the suit."

Garrus tapped Aki on the shoulder, getting her attention. "Jensen and I spar often and the worst I ever got were a couple of bruises. Whitaker will be fine. Not so sure about this Proudfoot, though. Doesn't quite have as much meat on her."

The Deep Eyes approached the trio, wearing full gunmetal medium and heavy armor... except Proudfoot, who was wearing something light, form fitting and dark.

"Or as much armor, apparently." he quipped.

"Thought this was going to involve just Jane and Ryan?" Aki asked Grey.

"There's been a change of plans." he answered.

Garrus subconsciously put his hand close to his holstered Mongoose, and Jensen tensed, resisting the urge to drop in a fighting stance. Whenever the two of them heard "there's been a change of plans", they knew things were about to go way south. Grey picked up on that immediately.

"Nervous?"

"We're not fans of surprises." said Adam.

Hein's voice boomed over the intercom. "Then you came on the wrong ship, mister Jensen! It's just full of surprises! Ah, I see that everyone is fully kitted - though not quite fully armed, but that's fine." he cleared his throat. "Now, I know we had a set schedule of matches, or at least I did. Why, even Dr. Ross would have gotten a chance to practice her Aikido today! But then I had a VISION. Jensen quietly took down each and every one of you once at a time with a minimum of broken bones and you'd all shake hands and congratulate each other on a good match and it was sooo... BORING. I've had... a change of heart. I thought about having you all duke it out at once with deadly force, but why should WE have all the fun?! That's why, in sixty minutes..."

Everyone felt the ship lurch: the Durendal had just dropped out of FTL. The hum of the engines died, and the retro thrusters rumbled the ship as they fired.

"The pirate transport that's been hiding in the Durendal's heat wake will be catching up to us. I've just transmitted our (false) intent to surrender and they'll be coming through the ship's main cargo door..."

An air sealing force field appeared at the front of the Cargo bay, and the main doors opened. A Trans-U converted Cargo transport, bearing the markings of Batarian slavers, could be seen in the distance, slowly approaching the Durendal. It was big enough to fit hundreds of pirates. Everyone stared at each other in horror.

"Have fun, everyone!"

**~[h+]~**


	3. Journey to Caleston

* * *

And there came one of the seven angels which had the seven vials, and talked with me, saying unto me, Come hither; I will shew unto thee the judgment of the great whore that sitteth upon many waters: With whom the kings of the earth have committed idolatry, and the inhabitants of the earth have been made drunk with the wine of her idolatry.

**Revelations 17:1-2**

**~[h+]~**

* * *

_Days ago..._

The corporate world of Caleston. Capital: Syneu.

A million and half souls made their homes here, supported by a local economy dedicated to the mining and refining of precious metals, the most lucrative of which was, naturally, Element Zero. Twenty years ago its colony was on the rise, quickly on its way to become an economic nexus that would rival Illium and Noveria. Syneu, the main colony hub, was a beacon of culture and commerce, spires of glass and metal sprang up at its center, becoming symbols of civilization proudly erect on a wild, untamed frontier.

But in the end, the surface of Caleston was a hostile, barren, and ultimately unwelcoming place: The ground was wracked with volcanism, veining the ground with lava. It's breathable atmosphere constantly supported by huge machines that spewed gases into the air. Nothing grew there save inedible and toxic thermosynthetic fungi... Syneu's growth, and the growth of its orbiting settlements, had stalled quickly after a decade.

RedWater, the mining company that managed the colonization efforts of Caleston and reaped the benefits of its mining industry, attempted a costly terraforming project to serve as a publicity stunt. Caleston, as if alive, had other ideas, and resisted any attempt to make it more hospitable. Weather stations were devoured by lava flows, volcanic vents spewed toxic spores, mingling with the terraforming gasses. RedWater only threw more and more money at the problem, but eventually gave up and scrapped the operations quickly in an attempt to cut their losses.

For the people on Caleston, the consequences were dire: Unemployment rose up so sharply RedWater's social services became overwhelmed lowering the quality of life for all colonists. and a shantytown filled with the poor grew out of Syneu like a cancerous tumor. A culture of poverty took root in it and the poorer area of the city, the youths living there learning quickly to despise those fortunate enough to live in the rich Downtown area, coveting their wealth. The richer residents, fearing for their safety, segregated themselves away in secure residential complexes, guarded by heavily armed Private Security Contractors.

As for the miners, the lifeblood of Syneu's economy? At first, they were overworked and underpaid to the point where they were little better off than slaves. Then, as RedWater started fielding Quarian strip-mining technology, they found themselves slowly becoming redundant. Their expertise in digging through Caleston's soil and rock proved invaluable for RedWater's latest project, but it wouldn't be long before they would need to move into shacks made out of scrap metal and plastic.

From the bridge of the Waking Dreamer, Benezia's personal ship, The Matriarch processed all of this, and concluded that while it wasn't quite the end for Caleston, she could see it from here.

All it needed as a little push, and it would descend into hell...

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**SSV Normandy- Cargo Bay -October 6th 2183 - 1600 hours, ship time**

After fine tuning his T5-A Destroyer Powered Battlesuit, Anderson now had little to do but admire his handiwork. While the rest of the N7s had moved on with the T5-V, with its smaller shoulder mounted missile launcher and fancier electronics, Anderson thought the T5-A would always win out in terms of reliability and heat management. It was intimidating and slow, but Anderson liked it that way: he was getting on in years, and was no longer as spry as he used to be 20 years ago. The Gene-Mods kept him fit, but they didn't make him young. Still, his eyes and his aim were as good as ever, and the Mako Ballistics B75 Executioner LMG (another so-called antique) would make quick work of any Geth.

He checked his watch. Still had six hours to kill before lights out. He had gone over the suit and the gun three times already. Until the Normandy arrived at Caleston (or if the ship came under attack), his job was basically to make sure everything ran smoothly. Thing is, the Normandy's crew had been handpicked by both him and Hackett from the best of the best, and they didn't really need him to look over their shoulders.

Speaking of handpicking, Sergeant James Jimenez Vega and First Lieutenant Jacob T. Taylor, the two replacements Hackett had assigned to the Normandy, were standing over Shepard's coffin along with Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. The coffin was still humming, its stasis field stopping her flesh from decomposing. Anderson had planned a burial at sea with a 21 gun salute, but then Jondum Bau had come along all of a sudden and commandeered the Normandy, sinking that plan. He thought about having the body shipped to Arcturus when they had stopped at Ella Base to pick up the new Marines, but... but that would have meant letting go.

And letting go was the hardest thing for Anderson to do.

"So...there she is." Anderson overheard Vega speak. "I mean... I always dreamed of meeting her in person and now... damn, I don't know how to feel about this, sir."

"She will be missed." said Jacob, sadly. He turned to Williams. "Did you know her long?"

"No..." she replied sadly. "We met on Eden Prime during the Geth attack. Between that and the business on the Citadel, we didn't get a chance to sit down and talk. She was as good as they said, though. I looked forward to being part of her squad."

"How did she die?" asked Jacob.

"Someone stuck a knife in her heart while she slept," replied Williams. "As for who did it, C-Sec can't seem to figure it out. Dumb assholes."

"I heard it was some kind of Geth Infiltrator that did it," said Vega. "But that's the scuttlebutt for ya."

 _That's fairly close to the mark_ , Anderson thought. Too bad Jondum Bau had sworn him to secrecy. He may not be able to set the record straight, but he could stop the rumor mill from turning for a bit. He cleared his throat behind the trio, and they snapped to attention, saluting.

"Don't you Leathernecks have anything better to do than gossip around a coffin?"

"No, sir!" Jacob answered quickly. "We just finished our orientation and our training routine and we decided to give our respect to the honored dead, sir!"

"Hmph. At ease." Anderson inspected the newcomers. Vega was a tall, very muscular young man with an exotic look about him. He had a horizontal stripe tattooed over his face, drawn with some sort of Incan or Mayan motif. His hair was short, but wild, set off by two silver earrings that matched his eyes. Probably a South American Native, Anderson assumed. His file had simply said 'Latin' under 'ethnicity'. According to the profile, Vega was classified as a Soldier, specializing in heavy weaponry and armor.

Jacob Taylor, on the other hand, was a bit shorter and smaller than Vega, but clocked in as much gym time as Vega, and it showed.. The dark skin of his bald head gleamed a bit under the Cargo Bay's light, as the only pieces of hair on his head were his eyebrows and his goatee. A studded, curved scar that extended from his left eyebrow to the back of his head marked him as a Biotic L3b refit. According to his file, Taylor was actually meant to be stationed on Eden Prime, but he was recalled months ago at 511 for his implant refit and the necessary healing coma. He had woken up just yesterday, and had gotten his assignment an hour after cryo sickness had worn off. As a Vanguard, he was a straight-up Close Quarters combatant.

"I suppose you still have some questions about your assignment here?" asked Anderson.

Jacob nodded. "As a matter of fact, sir, I'm a little confused why I'm here. When I went under I expected to be assigned to a company of marines as an XO..."

"Ditto," interrupted Vega. "Although I thought I'd be assigned a squad when they put that extra chevron on me."

"Instead we're both supposed to be part of a Spectre's squad?" continued Jacob. "And you'll be in it? Sorry if I'm overstepping my bounds, sir, but it's a little unusual. What's going on?"

"I have to admit, I'm a little curious too, sir." added Williams.

Anderson proceeded to explain that Jondum Bau needed the best soldiers available for an extraction mission, part of a campaign to thwart Saren as much as possible while the Council chose the first human Spectre. He then went on to explain that Vega, Williams and Taylor would have been shoe-ins for the N7 programs, according to their performance evaluations.

"And you two were the closest to Ella base," finished Anderson. Williams and Vega beamed a bit at their training and efforts being vindicated. Taylor, however, was still all business.

"And the Krogan merc? How does he fit in?" Jacob pointed at Urdnot Wrex, the mercenary clad in blood red armor that Jondum Bau had hired. He was leaning back against a large crate, doing his best to ignore Jenkins. Apparently, Saren and Urdnot had crossed paths before, and Jenkins kept pestering the Krogan to tell him all about it.

Vega nodded in approval. "Hey, if things go south, we'll have a Krogan on our side to soak in the bullets. Smart."

"Our side? Or the Salarian's?" asked Williams cynically.

Vega shrugged. "I don't see a reason why he'd screw us over. Then again Salarians _are_ pretty tricky..."

Wrex started grumbling, and while Anderson thought it might be good to talk with his new Marines some more, he thought it best to make sure Jenkins didn't get himself in trouble. "I should go," he said. "But I want you three to hit the VR sims some more. I want you as sharp as possible when we get to Caleston tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

Wrex groaned. There had been a time when he dealt with annoyances like the young marine with a swift backhand..."There's no story, kid," he grumbled. "Go watch some vids if you want stories."

"C'mon!" insisted Jenkins. "You Krocs live for what? Two thousand years? You must have seen some cool stuff!"

"Kroc?" Wrex hadn't heard that one before. "Seriously? You humans can't be bothered to pronounce two syllables? Bah! Go away."

"I think you should listen to him, son." Anderson patted Jenkins on the shoulder. "Williams left a few guns uncleaned. Why don't you go over them and familiarize with some of the new gear the Spectre brought in while you're at it?"

"No need, Williams went over them at least-"

" _Go_ , Jenkins," insisted Anderson. "That's an order."

"...Yes sir," Jenkins made himself scarce, much to Wrex's relief. The old Krogan took a swig out of his canteen. Ryncol always helped with calming himself down, and that boy had really, _really_ harmed his calm.

"I have a few questions." asked Anderson.

"Aw, dammit." Wrex took a deep breath. "Let me guess: 'Tell me more about the Krogan', right? I'll never understand why you humans can't just log on the 'net and do a Codex search. But fine, here's the abridged version: We saved the galaxy, then the Turians came along and cut off our balls. The end. If you want more details, go ask the _Salarian_."

"I already read the codex entry on Krogans, Urdnot."

"...Oh."

"I was actually wondering how you got roped into working with a Salarian. After all, they're the ones who provided the Turians with the ah... scalpel."

"Heh!... Well aren't _you_ funny? Look, it's not complicated: Jondum Bau bailed me out of jail and lined my pockets with platinum to keep his stupid ass in one piece. And yeah, I got a good reason to hate Salarians. But I'm a professional, and I'm no too proud to accept their coin, especially if they're headed into a fight."

"And you accept Turian coin, as well, from what I've heard."

"Yeah, sometimes... You're leading this conversation somewhere, aren't you?"

"Bau said you worked for Saren Arterius. I bet there's a story there."

"Not much of a story."

"I think I'd like to hear it, just the same."

Wrex mentally took Anderson's measure, and found that, compared to that whelp Jenkins, the human captain seemed more deserving of respect.

"I'll make you a deal," said Wrex. "I tell it to you, but you'll have to tell me one in return sometime. Does that sounds fair?"

"Deal. Let's have it, then."

"...Fine. This was a few years back, out in the edges of the Terminus Systems. Saren had hired a bunch of mercs, roped them in with the promise of good pay and a cut of the loot. And there would be plenty, of it, too. The _Caravel_ was famous for being constantly stocked full of good cargo."

"The Caravel?"

"A Volus super-freighter, size of a Dreadnought. Very big. Heh, a little _too_ big. The mercs needed some extra help, and they called on me. I met with Saren to make a deal, and I could tell he was rotten, to the core. Still, I needed the cash and he paid half upfront, so I accepted the job. He turned out to be pretty hands off about it, too. Just told us to board the ship and kill all the security staff onboard. That was it. One catch, though. We had to leave the Caravel's central vault alone. We could take everything else that wasn't bolted down on the ship, but the vault was off limits."

"I take it you got greedy?"

"My co-workers did. _I_ honor my deals, but the rest? They weren't so scrupulous. They cracked that vault open and helped themselves... but still, I got curious, so I took a peek inside while they stuffed their sacks."

"What was in it?"

"...Jewels and platinum, and lots of it. Enough for a man to buy his own moon... but that's not what got my attention. There was a pedestal in the center, and set upon it was something... weird. A mask, made of dark steel that glinted blue. Its eye holes were blacker than night, but it was as if the thing was staring right through me, just as I stared into it. Meanwhile, my fellow mercs? They were going out of their minds with greed, taking off their clothes to bathe in the jewels, laughing mad even as the sharp bits started cutting into their skin. Something was seriously wrong there, and I bailed. Didn't even wait to get paid. Turned out to be the right call: I haven't heard from anyone else on that job ever since."

"...A mask? What did it look like?"

"An Asari's head, minus the jaw but with two dark reddish purple flat spiral seashells set on the ears. Its crest's tentacles were splayed out, and they kinda looked like pointy crab spider legs. Gave me the creeps."

"Well, that was quite-"

The Normandy lurched, the intercom chimed in, and Joker's voice spoke: _"Uh, sir? We got a problem."_

"What is it, Joker?"

_"We're getting a wide band distress signal. It's... Batarian."_

_"Slavers. We should ignore it, it's probably a trap."_ said Bau over the intercom.

"We don't have time for this," agreed Anderson. "Send a report to command and get the Normandy back to full speed."

 _"Well, we... can't."_ answered Joker. _"They boosted their ansible's signal somehow, and it's buzzing our nav systems. The built in failsafes in our Nav computer won't let us go back to FTL until we recalibrate, but the damn signal is constantly throwing the navcom off. We'll have recalibrate once every 2 minutes."_

"...So we're stuck unless we switch off that ansible. Can we override the failsafes?"

_"We could, but that would take 20 hours and earn us all jailtime. It's quicker and safer to just go around it, but the interference bubble is pretty big. Couple of parsecs big. Either way, we're going to lose time."_

"Hmph, and it's in the middle of a fairly well-traveled FTL route. Alright, let's deal with this. Joker, set a course for the ship, as fast as sub-light can take us. Anderson out." He then turned to the marines in the cargo bay. "WILLIAMS, TAYLOR, VEGA, JENKINS! I WANT YOU ALL SUITED UP AND KITTED OUT YESTERDAY! WE'VE GOT A SITUATION!"

Anderson moved towards his Battle-Suit, intent on putting it on, but stopped and turned back to Wrex. "Care to join us?" he asked.

"Sure, why not?" said the mercenary. Anderson continued with his outfitting, and Wrex's phone vibrated in his legpack. He turned it on, and checked his messages.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**SSV Normandy- Forward Bridge - 2000 hours.**

It took four hours going back and forth between sublight and FTL, but Joker had finally managed to get the Normandy to the wreck. He ordered Serviceman Draven to do a full scan and send the data to his console and notified Anderson. He waited as the scan finished, hailing the derelict repeatedly and getting no reply. He felt thudding footsteps approach from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, expecting the disapproving glare of the captain, only to see the intimidating figure of a black T5 battlesuit with a red stripe on its right arm.

"Gah!"

 **"At ease, Flight Lieutenant."** Anderson's voice rumbled through the suit's helmet. Joker tried to relax, but the way those two glowing red sensors seemed to stare into his soul, laying bare every little misdemeanor and every little breach of protocol... well, he would not be at ease for a while, that was for sure.

**"Report."**

"Uh, right. Well, what we've got here is an old Trans-U passenger vessel re-purposed into a pirate slave barge. About twice as spacious as the Normandy, but at half the length. It's completely crippled: There's laser marks on the engines, the retro thrusters and the guns. Main power is down, so the signal is probably running on an emergency battery. No response to hails, and... well, this is weirdest part..."

**"What is it?"**

"The Eezo core is gone. Draven, you got any lifesigns?"

"I think so," Draven answered. "But interference from the ansible means I can't quite lock on to it. We might have a survivor."

**"If that's the case then blowing up the ship is out of the question."**

"You want me to dock with the thing?"

**"I'm not entirely certain this isn't a trap. Better keep the Normandy's main gun aimed at it if it is. Bridge to Taylor."**

_"Sir?"_

**"We're going on a spacewalk to secure the batarian ship. Make sure everyone's ready."**

_"Sir, the Salarian says he wants to tag along."_

**"Why?"**

_"Says he wants to see how someone managed to turn a cheap Batarian ansible into an interdiction field emitter."_

**"He's a Spectre. Let him do as he likes."**

**~[h+]~**

* * *

The five marines, along with a Spectre and a mercenary, slowly floated out of the Normandy's cargo bay and into the slave barge's.

"I recognize those markings." said Wrex over the radio. "This is Bassac's barge."

"I know the name." replied Anderson. "Bassac and his little band escaped Elysium with a hold full of loot and slaves. He flew a cutter back then..."

"Well, looks like whoever did this made him pay for it. Look."

Wrex shone a light on the barge's main cargo doors. They were wide open, the sealant clamps floating uselessly around it in the void. Dozens of alien bodies floated in the dark interior of the derelict, having been torn up by machine gun fire.

...

_"DIE, ALIEN SCUM!" shouted Neil through the Copperhead's loudspeakers._

_He may not have been able to sortie the gunship, but its Vulcan 2mm gun turret could take on all boarders. Sadly, there were a lot of boarders: they looked like bald humans, but with disgusting folds of flesh over their faces, red eyes, and lipless mouths filled with thin, razor sharp teeth. They rushed the Durendal's bay, not caring about their fallen. Neil stopped being too concerned about the swarm when a converted Tendus Wanzer carrying a big piece of concrete for a shield started stomping its way towards him, flanked by two angry looking Krocs._

_And Neil didn't have any rockets loaded._

_"Aw, crap. We got heavies incoming!"_

_..._

"What the hell are those?" asked Jenkins.

"Urgh, _Vorcha._ " answered Wrex in disgust. "Merc bands in the Terminus use them as cannon fodder. They breed like vermin, and they can regenerate as fast as I can. Be careful: If there's air, and a Vorcha's heart and brains are still intact, then it's probably not dead and waiting for you to drop your guard and try and eat you."

Anderson was starting to appreciate having Wrex around. Between the seven of them he was the only one with any experience with the dangers of the Traverse and the Terminus.

The seven spacewalkers slowly landed on the Barge's floor, and switched on their boots' grav clamps. Well, Jenkins tried to, anyways. He wound up firing his thrusters for a bit too long and found himself hitting a dead Krogan berserker.

"Oof!"

"Nice landing there, Jenkins." quipped Vega. He took a long look at the Krogan body... Someone had taken a battering ram to its skull. "Holy... Look at that, the helmet's caved in!"

...

_Skhug charged the one in the black armor, his shotgun firing wide to declare his attention. It overheated, and he threw it away, intent on headbutting the puny human._

_The puny human charged right back, and punched Skhug in the skull before he could cross into the human ship. His helmet caved in, and he was sent flying right into the Wanzer's shield._

_..._

"There's another one over there!" Taylor reported. "Mostly intact... save for a hole in his back..."

...

_Zhug charged the tiny human woman engaged with a batarian with a shock-pike. He wasn't like Skhug: he charged the proper way, with a battle axe. The batarian attempted to stab her with the sparky bit, but she deflected it with a knife and then buried a hatchet into his face._

_Zhug raised his axe, and the woman threw the spasming dead Batarian at Zhug's feet, causing him to stumble and fall. He felt the tingle of the shock-pike pierce his hump, then his skull, and then he felt nothing at all._

_..._

"What the hell is that?" asked Wrex as he shone a light on a wrecked Wanzer. It was fairly squat, about four meters tall. Extra armor plates had been bolted onto its frame, including the cockpit. A piece of concrete lay by its side, and its right arm had a pair of flamethrowers fitted onto it. Someone had destroyed the torso with a thermal charge, or something similar. The Wanzer's right arm, which had been fitted with a pair of heavy flamers, had been neatly sliced off at the elbow. Globes of fuel floated around it.

...

_Jensen had, to Grey's own astonishment, neatly sliced off the small Wanzer's arm with the Fandango. Not to be outdone, Grey climbed on the Tendus' back, stood on top of it, and emptied his Serpent's power cell straight into the armored cockpit at point blank range. Its cheap, makeshift plating proved completely ineffectual at stopping the stream of charged particles. The batarian pilot barely had time to scream before he was vaporized._

_..._

"That's a Tendus Wanzer." answered Vega. "Piece of crap compared to... well, anything else, really. You see a lot of those in arena matches or construction yards. My uncle and I serviced a lot of those back in the day. Still, it can be dangerous with the right mods, especially against infantry."

Jenkins chuckled at Wrex. "What? You never seen a Wanzer before?"

"Seen heavy mechs before..." Wrex shrugged. "Just not quite that big, I mean, what's the point of all that machinery? Give me a tank over a robot any day."

"Amen." agreed Williams.

"Sir," said Jacob. "This was a bloodbath! More than fifty Vorcha dead, twenty batarians, two Krogan, and a _Wanzer?_ Who did this? Who _could_ have done this? Spectres?"

"Possible." answered Bau. "Bassac's ties to the Batarian Theocracies and his raiding of various colonies across the traverse got our attention. Could be that some of our younger and more zealous members decided to do something about him. But that doesn't matter. Urdnot and I will see to disabling the distress signal. Anderson, feel free to split the assignments as you see fit."

Anderson conjured up a hologram from his Omni-Tool, a deck plan for the basic Trans-U. Unless Bassac had given his ship a complete overhaul, it would prove to be an adequate guide to the slave barge's interior.

"Vega, go with Bau and Urdnot. Taylor and Jenkins, go to the engine room and restore enough of the main power for the ship's gravity plating. Williams and I will head for the Bridge. Once the signal stops interfering with the Normandy's scanners, we should have a better idea as to where that life sign is coming from and we'll be able to secure the ship before tagging it for retrieval. Let's get to it, people, and keep an open channel at all times."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

"What in the hell happened here?" asked Vega as he scanned the barge's third's deck's main hall for anything hostile with his flashlight. All he saw were batarian corpses perforated with crossbow bolts. A _lot_ of crossbow bolts for a lot of bodies. "It's as if someone went nuts with a fully-automatic crossbow..."

"That's ridiculous." dismissed Bau. "What would be the point of making such a weapon? An assault rifle is more efficient. Clearly this was the work of a maniac that dessecrated these corpses with bolts once the fighting was over."

_..._

_"MUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ! HAAAAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"_

_Vodarek saw the maniac in the long black coat cut down his compatriots with high-tech fully automatic... crossbow, of all things! He had an insane gleam in his stone grey eyes, and he took great delight in the deaths of Vodarek's comrades. Their shields were useless against the bolts for some reason, and before long half of them had fallen to a rain of sharpened fiberglass._

_"Gentlemen! Say hello to my little friend! Her name is Maria! Why Maria? BECAUSE BIANCA WAS TAKEN, OF COURSE! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!"_

_More men died as the maniac turned them into pincushions, and Vodarek hid in an airvent, and prayed to the gods. That he would not be found._

_..._

Wrex pulled out one of the bolts and inspected the tip. He crushed the bolt's head between his fingers, and a glowing powder came out of it.

"Snowblind," said Vega. "It's still got a charge."

Wrex snorted. "Smart. The snow throws off the kinetic shield's velocity sensors, and the shield fails to trigger."

"...Interesting." said Bau. "I never thought Snowblind particles could be used in such a manner... Let's move on, the comms room should be right this way."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

In engineering, Jacob plugged in a fuel cell in a socket and threw the switch.

"Alright, we should be getting main power in ten seconds," said Jacob aloud in his helmet's mic. "Make sure your boots are on the ground, and that there's nothing above your head, everyone."

 _"The distress signal has been disabled."_ reported Bau. _"My apologies it took so long. Whoever did this put a LAM on the main power cell."_

_"Anderson to Joker, are you reading this? Get Draven to do another scan."_

_"Joker to away team. Right on it."_

"You guys should see this." said Jenkins. "I've got a Batarian here with his neck stomped flat and four crew men with holes in their heads."

_..._

_As the four engineers fired their SMGs uselessly at him, Ryan put his boot down on the neck of the Batarian he had just clotheslined. Fool tried to nail his Omni-Shield with an arc welder. Behind him, Garrus pulled off two clean headshots on the techs on the left, and Neil pulled a Mozambique drill on the ones to the right with his DMR._

_"Show-off." said Garrus._

_"Yeah, look who's talkin'." Neil fired back amicably._

_"Captain, reported Ryan, "Engineering is secure with minimum damage, as ordered. What do you want us to do?"_

_"Cut the gravity to the Slave pens!" replied Grey over the wireless. "Jane and I are pinned down! Jensen! Are you at the bridge yet?!"_

_"I am. Bassac's dead." replied Jensen over his suit radio._

_"You were supposed to force a surrender!"_

_"I tried. Shit happens. I'm sorry."_

_Garrus and Ryan altered the main power settings and cut off the power to the slave pen._

_"Get ready, gravity and lights will be gone in your area in 3, 2, 1..."_

**~[h+]~**

* * *

The lights on the bridge came back on, bodies and various junk slammed on the floor, and the computers came back online. _"And lights on, everyone."_

"Thank you, Lieutenant." said Anderson. He looked around the fairly large command center, scanning for threats. He found nothing but corpses, and one of them was a large, nearly naked batarian. There was a tattoo on his chin, a thin hole in his throat, and Anderson recognized the man from his wanted poster.

"Bassac, I presume?" said Williams. Anderson nodded silently. "Thought he'd have better kit for a pirate."

"I'm guessing whoever did this looted all the good stuff, and stripped Bassac bare."

 _"It's what I would do."_ said Wrex over the wireless. _"Nothing like killing your enemies and taking their stuff. Makes the effort you put into wasting them sooo very worth it, heheh."_

Anderson decided to check the computers, and try and piece together what had happened here. He found Bassac's audio logs, and played the more recent ones.

_"Bassac's log, date...whatever, it's on the filename. Anyways, It's been a slow week since we sold those Omar to some Templars, although they claim it's technically a bounty, let's be honest here: Omar make better slaves than Quarians. They're just as technically adept and less of a pain in the ass to maintain. Just get them a dose of that neuropozyne and some sugar and they're good. It's a shame there's so damned few of them. I managed to hide Drebin in the uh...hiding spot. That boy's just too damned useful to simply sell. As long as he can keep using those magic hands to bypass the FRM chips on those guns we salvage, then I don't sell his ass."_

_"It's almost time for the Kulna Festival. The Priests are practically drowning slavers in platinum in exchange for some quality wares. I'm planning a raid on Horizon... It's an independent colony, but I've heard Kerberos Tactical Solutions has got a base there. On the other hand Balak's got a big hit planned later, says he needs my cannon fodder or the job is a bust. I guess I can get the Vorcha to breed some more. It's not like I'm lacking in room in the pens."_

_"Got a tip about a fat chicken on its way to Caleston. Guess what? Paydirt! It's a Terran military vessel. It's kinda slow, and its heat wake is huge, but that makes it all that much easier to stalk it... A light cruiser. Hm... even if it's not packed with meat I can still sell it whole or in parts for a few billion credits. Or... I could keep it? Commodore Bassac, now that's got a nice ring to it. I could really bring in the flesh at the festival with a ship that big."_

_"Rum luck, the chicken's got engine trouble. The captain's put out a distress call and we answered it. Apparently they need a compression coil and the captain's agreed to dock with us. Vodarek - that useless little runt - thinks it's a trap. Well, trap or no, I've got my boys ready to take the ship: there's like 12 lifesigns, plus a weird one. I've got more than a hundred men itching for a fight. The victor is certain."_

The next (and last) log was fraught with static, noises of alarms and screaming bridge crewmen. Someone reported incoming drones, another reported the guns were destroyed, and the engines were soon to be next.

_"It's him. I recognize his eyes. He's right outside, wearing new armor and wielding a blade that sings. It's been seven years since Elysium. I could have sworn he was engulfed in that firestorm those Alliance bombers rained down after I bailed. But no... He's here. He has crossed the void to find me."_

_*Slicing noise*_

_*door opens*_

_"...ender... half of... dead... mercy."_

"Who is that?" asked Williams.

"There's too much static to tell." responded Anderson.

_"hah...ha...ERCY?!...MY SONS...URDERER"_

_"...no...oice..."_

_"...GEANCE..DIE!"_

_"...wish."_

There was the sound of gunfire, and the recording ended.

"Well, that sounded kind of ominous." said Wrex.

_"Sir? Draven here. We've got a more accurate read on that lifesign. It's in the passenger cabins."_

"Anderson to everyone on the barge, we're headed to the cabins. Williams, make a copy of this. I'm sure Alliance HQ will be interested."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

"Hm... air pressure's okay, here. Feel free to switch to your filters." declared Taylor.

"This place looks more like a Pod Hotel than a passenger dorm." commented Vega. "And - oh Madre de Dios what the hell is in that bucket?!"

The pods had been completely deprived of the little creature comforts that made a place like this liveable, and there were buckets covered in dried waste of various colors. The walls were filthy, the corners caked with urine.

"Oh, jeez. I am never complaining about any bunk, ever." said Williams. Those are luxurious compared to this place."

"What are those?" asked Jenkins. "besides the... shackles, I guess?"

"IV tubes." answered Wrex. "Keeps the slaves docile and semi-healthy. Or sometimes just docile. See how there's just one drip per pod? There's room for two people, if you catch my drift..."

"Oh. Oh god." muttered Williams as she caught Wrex's meaning, while Jenkins simply gulped.

"How many people can you even put in a Trans-U?"

"I'd say 500, give or take sixty, if you pack them in tight enough and don't care about their private space too much." answered Wrex. "I'd say Bassac didn't."

There were at least fifty bodies on the ground. Some Batarians, a couple of Varren here and there, and plenty of Vorcha. All of them had holes in them. Some small and bloody, some large and singed.

...

_Voradek saw the Varren leap at the woman's throat, only to receive a knife in its mouth and go into its brain. She aimed her SMG (it looked a lot like a Blood Pack Punisher, only sleeker) and fired a burst at a group of crazed Vorcha, and they all fell._

_The gravity stopped working, and the lights went out. The woman's partner, a man in gunmetal armor, rose from the ground thanks to a multitude of micro jets and began to fly between the pods, shooting at the mostly helpless sailors from where they couldn't shoot back._

_Voradek could hear the woman breathe hard in the darkness, could tell she loved the carnage and was hungry for more. He saw her glowing blue circle turn on him - they all had blue cameras on their helms, eyes of blue - and could hear her snarl, her prey chosen._

_He ran as far as he could._

_..._

"What is..."

Wrex interrupted Jenkins before he could ask another question. "That's another dead Vorcha. It's just pregnant."

Jenkins stared at the lumpy alien. "Really? I figured it was sick or something."

"Vorcha sex ed 101: When Vorcha want to breed, a group of them pick a bitch and gangbang him-"

"Him?!"

"-until he's chock full of their parasites. Then, the parasites become tumors, then embryos, then little baby Vorchas. And when they come out, they eat their way out."

"Oh jeez. Sounds like this was a mercy-"

The pregnant Vorcha suddenly leapt up, screeching"BABIES NEED SOME MEEEAAAAT" and tried to bite Jenkins in the face. Jenkins, true to his training, reacted quickly and buried his Omni-Blade into his (her?) face. And when that didn't work, he destroyed the heart with a burst from his Avenger. The Vorcha fell limp. Dead.

"Huh. You got some steel in you after all, boy." complimented Wrex.

"I had to kill some friends back on Eden Prime. This?...this is nothing." try as he might to sound confident, he was still visibly shaken.

"Please tell me that wasn't the survivor." said Taylor, and he sighed, depressed. "We should have just blown up the ship."

_"Joker to away team. The lifesign's in the galley... looks like our survivor is getting a snack."_

"Anderson to Joker. Roger that."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

"Shh! You hear that?" Wrex went into the Galley first. While there were lights, there were still plenty of shadows to hide in, and Wrex's instincts made him wary for a predator. "Someone's muttering something."

Anderson, meanwhile, remembered that this was a rescue mission, and called out. "Hello? We're Alliance Marines, and we're here to rescue you. You don't have to be afraid, come on out!"

Wrex 'snorted'. "Yeah, 'Alliance Marine' isn't going to reassure a Batarian slaver, Anderson. Not after Torfan."

"Fine then." Anderson scanned the galley with his helmet's sensors. He found a batarian hiding in one of the food cabinets. He was muttering something, over and over again.

"Eyes of Blue... Eyes of blue... Eyes of blue... Eyes of blue... Eyes of blue..." the batarian rocked himself back and forth. "Gods, let them not find me. Please, Gods..."

Anderson marked the cupboard on his AR HUD, and hand signaled his marines to be careful, as the man was unstable and armed with a shiv. He approached the cabinet slowly, and opened the door."

**...**

_Jensen opened the locker, having heard someone pray in there. The fandango blade sprang from his right ulnar mount, and the high-frequency blade made its faint, but high-pitched whine, like a thousand wine glasses being caressed at once._

_Inside the locker was a short Batarian, with the slaver's mark on his forehead. He was paralyzed in fear, as he stared into Jensen's yellow-green eyes._

_"You!... It can't be you... you died on Elysium! The... the bombers!"_

_"...I was lucky. Haliat? Not so much."_

_Please..." he begged. "Don't kill me... I beg you..."_

_Jensen didn't retract the blade and stared at the Batarian's mark. He had seen countless like it before on Elysium, in the months after the Bellum carnage had stopped and the raids began. One of them had tried to take Sunny away, and he hadn't shown them any mercy since. He had even stalked some of their leaders, and killed them in their sleep..._

_"Please..." the batarian started crying. "Have... have mercy."_

_"Oh Jensen..." Hein's voice pierced Jensen's ear._ _"I'm done rigging the ansible. Are you finished with the core?"_

 _"Tali and her engineers are still working on disconnecting it."_ he replied sub-vocally.

_"Good, good. Oh by the way, I had Jane and Garrus execute all of those poor saps you sent into a coma. Is that a problem?"_

_"...Why? Why did you do that?"_

_"Please, once the Normandy gets here, they'll probably just scuttle the ship anyways, and we can't be bothered with prisoners. Besides, do you really want to give those scumbags a chance to be rescued? They're slavers, Jensen!"_

_"..."_

_"Jensen? Helloooo?"_

_Jensen simply closed the locker. In the recent fight, he had tried to be merciful even in the heat of battle, even as his blood ran hot. He would not kill a man in cold blood again._

_Never again..._

**...**

**"Aaah!"** Vodarek shouted and waved his shiv around. He soon found his wrist twisted by a Krogan, and the makeshift knife was pulled away from him. He was surrounded by humans - crazy, merciless humans, all of them, and they would lynch him to death for all his crimes, and they would enjoy it.

"Easy! he's panicked enough as it is." The human clad in an angular power-suit had a deep booming voice - much like Vodarek's father. "We're not here to kill you."

"Yet." quipped a large burly human in a curvier power-suit.

"Stow it, Sergeant!"

"...Stowing it, sir."

"Who are you?" asked Vodarek.

"Captain David Anderson of the SSV Normandy. We picked up your distress beacon."

Vodarek was confused. "What beacon?! I never sent out a distress call...I... I ran from my post!"

"Ran from who? Who did this?" asked the Captain. "Tell me."

"...Creatures, with eyes that burned blue, and leading them... was the Shadow of Elysium himself!"

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**USSV Durendal - Cargo bay - 1530 hours**

Enraged, Aki punched Hein in the face. "YOU ASSHOLE! YOU PUT US ALL IN DANGER!" she screamed. "AND FOR WHAT?!"

Hein's head was knocked sideways. "Ow! That really, really hurt! Honestly, I could cry, over here!"

Neil, along with the rest of the Deep Eyes, was stacking enemy corpses on top of the Wanzer drop hatch when he saw the doctor land that punch. "Uh oh. Mommy and Daddy are fighting again."

"I'll handle this. You just keep stacking the bodies." Grey came up behind Aki and held her by the arms, but she wrestled away from his grip and landed another punch on Hein's face. Grey then bear hugged her from behind, and she was physically restrained.

Verbally, not so much.

"You practically invited hostile SLAVERS aboard!"

"Yes, I did." said Hein as he rubbed his cheek. "Couldn't afford to have them fire on us and scratch the paint, now could I?"

"We have a CHILD onboard! A CHILD! And what about the Quarians?! You put civilians in danger!"

"Yes, civilians trained in counter-boarding tactics, and we took precautions with the child. He's still in his escape pod, isn't he?"

"He won't come out!"

"Well, I'm sorry but it's not my fault he likes it in there so much, now is it? Look, before you continue with this back and forth I had very good reasons to put my ship and its crew in jeopardy."

"I don't care! I will report to Admiral Travis, and you can forget about taking this ship on a joyride anymore!"

"Oh really? By all means, do report it! You'll have a hard time making 'Hein took down a slave barge with a squad of marines and two cops' sound bad, however. And on that note, consider the fact that over five hundred people won't be getting enslaved in the near future, and thousands more have been spared getting shock collared and don't even know it. If anything the good Admiral will give us all a medal."

"You could have just DESTROYED THE SHIP!"

"Yes, but then I wouldn't have been able to leave a big enough crybaby to keep that Spectre aboard the Normandy off our backs. Or rescue that Omar fella right over there." He waved at the recently freed Omar, who nodded back in response. "Hello! In any case. Engaging the ship at range would have resulted in a damaged hull, and I can't quite afford that."

Aki calmed down, and Grey let her go.

"Spectre? Why would Spectres-"

"Because of T'soni, naturally. Right about now she's the most sought after Asari this sector of space. If the Spectres, and by extension the Council find her, then they'll put her in some hole somewhere where her talents will be wasted, or they'll kill her just to deny Saren an asset. It's a race, and I saw an opportunity to win it."

"Wasn't there any other way to do that without risking getting us all KILLED?"

"Of course there was, but Grey complained that a bunch of gangbangers in a Citadel Slum wasn't quite enough to cut his teeth on, so I obliged him with a small horde of veteran pirates."

Aki glared at Grey, and he groaned inwardly. "I never asked for this!"

"Yes you did! And you got it! The Deep Eyes just lived up to their reputation, and they've proved they can work quite well with C-Sec's own super-cops, to boot. Nothing builds esprit-de-corps like slaughtering Batarians and their minions, wouldn't you say? Also, LOOT! I've been looking to getting my hands on the latest weapons from the Terminus! They're cheap, but they hit hard!"

The doctor glared at both men, and walked away in a huff, disgusted. "If anyone needs me, Me and Lelia will try and coax Fyodor out the escape pod!"

**~[h+]~**

* * *

While Aki and Hein argued, Garrus helped Neil put the bodies of some of the invading pirates that made it inside the Durendal on top of the Wanzer drop hatch. There were at least thirty of them, most of which had been cut down by the Copperhead's machine gun. Some had been taken down by - and this surprised Garrus a bit - Zev, who was scavenging anything serviceable off the pirate's corpses. He was, at the moment, knocking some platinum teeth out of a Batarian's mouth with the pommel of one of his glass knives.

Ryan, for his part, was facing the pile as he muttered something, reading an open book of Terran prayers with his head lowered. This confused Garrus a bit. And annoyed him, too: Ryan was huge and strong, and could easily lift a body up, and he was reading?

"Huh, no offense, but do you think you can help us? There's still quite a few bodies to move and you're a pretty big guy..."

Ryan ignored him, and kept on praying.

"It's this thing he does - one, two, three!" Neil and Garrus tossed the body they were carrying onto the pile, and Neil continued: "Needs to pray for the dead, wash his soul of it or some such. We all got our post-killin' rituals. Me? I prefer a bottle of booze. Hey Zev! You done with this one?"

Zev pulled out the dead Batarian's armored hardsuit boots. "Give me another minute for this one, and another ten for the other two over there. I'll have them stripped down to nothing by then. Feel free to take a break."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

While waiting for Zev to finish his extremely thorough scavenging, Garrus noticed Jane sitting on a crate by herself, sharpening one of her many knives. She was taking deep hard breaths, and whenever her blade wasn't grinding against her whetstone, her hands shook a little.

"Hey," she said, barely acknowledging him.

"Hey."

"Wanna screw?"

Garrus' eyebrows rose in surprise "...Well, that came out of nowhere."

"There's nothing like fucking after a fight. Besides, I always wanted to know if what they say about you kittybirds is true."

"Ooookay. Proudfoot, between the blood and the shit covering the floor... I dunno, I feel like we're moving too fast, can we just stay friends?"

"Suit yourself." Jane said. She didn't sound all that disappointed.

"...And here I thought it was the Krogan that loved killing a little too much."

"It's not the killing I enjoy. It's the fighting that gets my blood hot. Killing's the boring part, honestly. But I gotta do it if I want to keep living."

"Still, that's not exactly-"

"Sane?" Jane snickered, put away her small knife, withdrew her Heat Khukri from the sheath strapped to the small of her back and applied her whetstone on it. "I know. We're all a little unhinged here in the Deep Eyes. Why do you think Hein picked us to be on this ship? We're the only ones crazy enough to go along with his antics."

"Your squadmates seem pretty sane to me. Ryan-"

"-believes in an invisible man in the sky. Neil medicates himself with porn, booze and the occasional roll of weed. Grey's... Grey let the Psi techs poke around with his brain to become a soldier again. No. None of us are quite right in the head."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" shouted Grey. The Omar they had rescued from the slave barge seemed to be helping himself to the armory's guns, and seemed very interested in Jane's spare Vector M SMG. Grey pointed his Serpent at the cyborg, and it sighed. The Omar put its hands up, one of which dangled a white handkerchief.

"I surrender." said a smooth baritone voice that came from its speaker. The Omar approached Grey, slowly, until he a couple of feet away from the Serpent's barrel. "Hein gave me permission to be here. Said he wanted me to sort all the guns you and your quarians looted from the ship." He calmly, slowly put the handkerchief over his other hand, made a slow gesture, and swiped the handkerchief away. Where there had been nothing there was now a 375 ml OVO cell. Grey suddenly felt that his Serpent felt lighter, and his HUD reported that his Serpent's power-cell had been taken out.

"What the?!"

The Omar backed away, laughing, and casually tossed the cell back to Grey, who caught it and swiftly reloaded his weapon. "They call me Smuggler. Smuggler Drebin." he stuffed his handkerchief back into his jacket and took a bow. "At your service."

"Whatever it is you're selling, I'm not buying." Grey didn't trust the Omar, and he especially didn't like this one in particular. Grey had found him in the barge's armory, not even slightly bothered by the carnage that was happening just beyond his door. Hein ordered him brought to the Durendal, and he assumed he would be a prisoner.

"Put your weapon down," ordered Hein from behind Grey. The soldier complied, but he would be watching this Drebin very carefully, far closer than he would watch Jensen. Jensen was one man. Having an Omar aboard meant that its collective would know all of the Durendal's secrets within the day.

"Ah, a G302D Serpent." said Drebin, cooly. "Now there's an exotic weapon. Mind if I tweak it?"

"Why in the hell would I let you touch our guns?"

"Hein and I had an agreement: I upgrade and maintain all of the small arms you've got, and he let's me stay on the move aboard this ship."

"He's got me to maintain the armoury."

"Really? Well, it won't do to have a butterbar working as a Quartermaster, would it? Hein knows talent when he sees it. Bonus: I've got black market contacts all over the Traverse and the Terminus. If you need a gun or a mod bought or sold without the hassle of paperwork at competitive prices, all you have to do is bring me the credits, and I'll take care of everything."

"Considering some of the pirate's guns exploded in their faces, I've got doubts as to how talented you really are."

The Omar's golden optics betrayed no emotion, but Drebin's stance expressed a great deal of amusement. "Is that so? Well, those were some really, really old guns. I'm good, but I'm no..." Drebin did his magic trick again, only this time a multitude of tiny gun parts spilled from his hand and onto the floor. "...Magician. Heheh."

Grey looked at the gun parts scattered on the floor and put two and two together. "...You knew we were coming. But that means... Hein, he planned this from the very beginning."

"Smart boy. Now, will you be making use of my services, or do you have somewhere else you need to be?"

Grey eyed Drebin suspiciously. "...I'll be watching you."

Drebin pointed two fingers at his optics, then one at Grey. "Right back at you."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

Jensen put the salvaged eezo core down on the engine room's floor. It was fairly small, but its thick containment shield weighed nearly half a ton. Between the 108 and his own augs, carrying it was easy, although maintaining his balance had been tricky, and he was glad to have put it down.

"Thank you, mister Jensen." said Tali.

"No problem." he replied. "Need my help fitting this into the ship?"

"Oh, no. We're going to keep this as a backup just in case, but the barge's core is made out of lower quality element zero. The Durendal's core may be fractured, but it's still better."

"...Fractured? That doesn't sound too good."

"There... is a risk of catastrophic failure in using a fractured core when traveling in FTL. But don't worry! The Durendal's been outfitted with an emergency core shutdown system should the core fracture some more."

"If I had known that you'd be put in this much danger, I never would have suggested hiring you to Hein. I'm sorry."

"Oh no, it's alright! I couldn't ask for better pay and working conditions. And Hein... well, he doesn't insult me every time he talks to me - unlike some previous employers I've had, and he's proven very generous in saving my fellow pilgrims. And traveling in space is always dangerous: The Flotilla has more than a few ships with fractured cores, and pirate attacks against its scout groups are common. If anything, I should be thanking you: jobs are hard enough to come by as it is when you're a Quarian..."

"Don't mention it."

"No. no, I really should. You and Vakarian saved me. I never thought I'd receive such kindness from non-quarians, especially not humans. And you and Vakarian... You saved my life, and for that I owe you both a debt of gratitude I can never repay."

Tali looked into Jensen's eyes, and while she found them frightening at first, she started to appreciate the blend of emerald and gold, and the engineer in her was curious as to how exactly they worked. Adam, sadly, misunderstood her stare, and thought he was scaring her. He reactivated his eye-shades, hiding his eyes behind dark gold mirrors, and Tali realized what she had just been doing.

"So, um anyways! It'll be a while before I uh, finish 'fixing that old Omni-Tool'? You can tell Garrus to come see me after Caleston, I'll have it fixed by then."

"...Thanks, I'll be sure to let him know."

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**Hein's quarters, Durendal, 1630 hours.**

Hein sat at his desk and opened up the green book he had titled 'Project Galahad'. He made a printout of Jensen's modifications on the 108's code, wrote down some of his thoughts on them for future improvements, and stuck it on one of the book's page. So far, 'Galahad' was progressing well: Jensen displayed some restraint when fighting a small horde of slavers, a close repeat of what had occurred on Elysium seven years ago. He had allowed himself to become a killer when Haliat had made his final push, but on the barge he had mostly held his wrath in check, save for that unfortunate Krogan berserker that made the mistake of charging him. That display of frightening power had caused quite a panic in the pirates, and seeing the modified Tendus so easily destroyed by both Jensen and Grey had caused them to retreat deeper into the ship.

"Note to self," Hein said out loud. "Give Grey standing orders to capture a Wanzer when the opportunity arises. That Tendus was a piece of crap, but it could have been useful."

His console beeped - it was a call from the Shadow Broker.

**"Wrex reported in. The Normandy took the bait."**

"Good. Jensen spared a pirate, and that should ensure Anderson doesn't blow up the ship, unless he's feeling particularly vengeful."

**"Even without the survivor, curiosity can be a powerful thing."**

"Oh, I took the liberty of leaving some of Bassac's logs behind. It should alert the Alliance that there's going to be a surge in batarian slaver attacks soon. The logs also mentioned that Balak was up to something."

**"I'll be sure to keep an eye on him. How is Brea doing? Her QEC datalink implant isn't feeding me any data."**

"She's getting better. She should be awake by the time we come back to from Caleston. I really wish she didn't take such a dislike to me, if she had come to my ship sooner she would still be conscious."

**"You shot her in the head with a bowgun."**

"I shot it AT her head, and I needed to maintain my cover and that was a long time ago!"

**"And Jensen? How is he doing?"**

"So far so good. He's taking very well to the new suit, although he is a bit distant from the rest of the Deep Eyes. I hoped slaughtering some Batarians together would bring them a bit closer, but... Oh well, I'll just have to coordinate Jensen's efforts separately from the squad, then."

**"Speaking of Caleston... I just received some more up to date information as to the situation on the ground. You're not going to like this."**

"Oh? I thought you were practically blinded to the planet?"

**"I was. "**

The download completed, and Hein opened the file. "Uh oh."

**"That's right, the Templars have taken control of the colony, including its** **global and interstellar communications system** _._ **But that's not the worst part."**

An image popped up on screen, showing a meeting between Lord Captain Bafford and Matriarch Benezia, along with a commando of Asari that served as her escort.

**"This is a day old. It seems Benezia and Bafford have forged an Alliance. Apparently Manah has eluded them, and they're looking all over the planet for her."**

"Have they found her?"

**"Benezia's ship, the Waiting Dreamer, hasn't come through Relay Theta 541 back to Terminus space, so it's unlikely... but with Bafford's help it's only a matter of time. Either that, or she's already in their grasp and she's being forced to work on the artifact. If she unlocks it..."**

"I know."

**"Saren and the Templars would become unstoppable."**

"I know! Can Harper do anything?"

**"No. Your ship is the closest."**

"It's all up to us, eh? Fine. I'll let my men rest, then brief on the situation tomorrow. Is that all?"

**"Be careful with Jensen and Brea. They're the last of their respective kinds."**

Hein broke the connection.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**USSV Durendal - Briefing room - October 7th - 1200 hours**

In the briefing room, which was basically a small theater that could seat around 30 people, the Deep Eyes, Jensen and Vakarian sat as Hein gave his briefing on Caleston and it's main hub, Syneu. As it turned out, the Templars had appointed themselves as Caleston's peacekeepers, and Benezia had apparently managed to get them to cooperate in her search for her.

Garrus raised his hand. "Question: Does that mean that Saren and the Templars are allies?"

"Possibly." answered Hein.

"If there's anything I know about the Templars is that they really, REALLY don't like non-humans. Are you certain she's not their prisoner?"

"Naked aggression against Citadel races would bring far too much trouble on the Templar's heads. And Asari can be very convincing when they want to be."

"They like cyborgs even less." commented Jensen.

"Don't worry, I've got a plan to get you past customs."

Hein continued detailing the potential threats the Deep Eyes would be facing on the ground: patrols of soldiers in Knight heavy hardsuits and Crusader power armors, infantry support mechs, rapid response teams outfitted in Seraphim flying power armors, and of course, Wanzers.

"What kind of Wanzers?" asked Grey.

"Templar Custom jobs of the _Vyzov_ and _Numsekar_. The Wyverns will be waiting on the Ascalon to be dropped in any hot zones. Air support will be provided by _Cherubim_ gunships, and _Ophanim_ dropships. The Ascalon is a troop transport, so don't worry: no Dominion interceptors or Virtue fighter-bombers will be hounding the Copperhead."

Neil breathed a sigh of relief at that. "Still, you expect us to take all of these on? We're good, but we're not THAT good.

"Of course not! I'm impressing on you exactly what kind of military shitstorm you'll be kicking up if your covers as mercenaries are blown."

"Why can't we go in as United States soldiers?" asked Grey.

"Because Caleston is a corporate world. The US doesn't have any authority here, and that's why the Templars could take control."

Hein then went on about the rescue mission's second objective: The Prothean monolith. Redwater, while digging for a new geothermal powerplant, chanced on the ruins of an ancient undercity. At the very heart of those ruins a small monument was found: an active Prothean artifact that baffled even the Asari team that was sent to investigate it. Eventually they gave up, and called on the Justicars to lend them T'soni and her expertise. The artifact and the ruins had been the central issue behind the revolt: The Asari had blithely pushed the workers too hard for months, and when it looked like the Asari would be reaping all the benefits of their hard work they decided that enough was enough. A worker's protest turned into a colony-wide riot, and Redwater tried to contain the situation by disabling interstellar communications and sending in their own rent-a-cops.

Naturally, things got worse, and the Ascalon, which was passing through, decided to take control of the situation.

"Didn't the miners know that under Citadel law every species would benefit from researching the Prothean Artifact?" asked Garrus.

"...No, they were pretty much correct." said Hein. "Certain... parties on Thessia had paid Redwater quite a bit of credits to keep the discovery a secret. Redwater failed miserably, naturally."

"That's... no, the Republics would never stand for it."

Hein rolled his eyes. "Yes, the Asari got on top of every major power in the galaxy by... following the rules. That they wrote." he chuckled. "Where was I? Ah yes... Naturally, this artifact and its secrets are far too important for the Templars to keep and for Benezia - and thus Saren - to have access to. So, once T'soni has been found and exfiltrated, your task will be to either extract the artifact's central component, or, failing that, des-" he gulped. "Destro- I'm sorry, I can't say it..." He took a deep breath. "Destroy the priceless fountain of knowledge that this artifact represents."

Hein took a swig of whiskey from a flask, conjured up a blue hologram of a tower, then continued: "So, let's review the objectives, shall we? First, rescue T'soni then exfiltrate her. You'll return to the Durendal to prepare for your second primary objective: acquire or... destroy the Prothean artifact. In order to achieve these goals, Jensen and Proudfoot will infiltrate the Templar's communication relay and plant a bug in their systems: if the Templars find T'soni, we'll know it."

Another hologram came up, a map of a ruined quarter of Caleston's main hub.

"Mister Vakarian, while the Templars may not be willing to incur the wrath of the Turians (yet), they've seen fit to segregate Syneu's alien population into a lovely little ghetto they call the _Alienage_." As soon as you land, the Templars will escort you there, and your job will be to look for T'soni in there. Jensen and Jane will be joining you discreetly once their task is done."

"...Wonderful." Garrus' voice oozed with sarcasm.

"As for the rest of you, your task will be to make contact with Fawkes Moody, a hacker that works under the pseudonym 'Spooky'. He's got a finger on the pulse of Caleston's demimonde, and he'll prove a valuable asset in locating T'soni. Now, let's start giving out some codenames!"

"Oh, no!" Neil protested. "I'm not gonna be Mr. Pink again!"

Grey raised his hand. "I think our regular callsigns will do, sir."

"Oh fine, be that way." Hein sulked a bit. "But since Jensen and Vakarian don't have _nom-de-guerres_ , I'll give them some! Mr Vakarian, you're Mr .Blue, and Jensen, you're going to be Mr... Hm... Mr. Shadow. Now, any questions? No? Good! All of the files you'll need are loaded in your Omni-Tools. Everyone, go about your business, prepare yourselves, we'll meet in the cargo bay at 1900 hours. Dismissed!"

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**Templar Troop Transport Ascalon - Bridge.**

Every human on the ship was dead. The Masque demanded a price for such intense Scrying, to exert so much control over a thousand fanatical warriors, and it didn't care who paid it. Bafford had been the first. The fool had believed his charms to be irresistible, and when Benezia had appeared, her chest and belly exposed in that long, nearly-see through silk gown, he had provided no resistance when the Masque drained him of his Anima. Control came easily then, and Benezia's soft, calm voice suddenly carried the strength of command that had made these Templars so much more... pliant to her suggestions. More were drained, and before long suggestions became inviolable commands.

Such was the power of the Masque of the Black Queen.

And what greater power was there to turn an enemy to your cause? To make his sight as your own, to make his sword as your own?

Benezia sat in a Lotus position in the middle of the ship's command bridge her eyes closed, with the Masque's spider like fingers gripping her crest tightly. She breathed slowly, deeply, concentrating on the millions of tiny embers of life that were packed tightly on Caleston's colony. She could taste their emotions, and sampled them one by one until she found what she was looking for.

Sorrow. Uncertainty. Loneliness.

_"Manah."_

Fright.

_"I know you can hear me, Manah."_

The ember glowed brighter, shining with the bright red flavor of terror. She had been found, and she tried to shut the voice away.

 _"Open your eyes, Manah. Show me where you are."_ Benezia breathed deep. _"I smell the stink of sweat on your skin. I can taste the ash in your mouth, and I can feel the rumbling in your belly, my child. Open your eyes, and my servants will find you, bathe you, feed you..."_

The terror intensified, mingled with guilt.

_"All is forgiven, my child. It wasn't your fault. I forgive you... No, do not pray for a saviour. I can feel your thoughts turning to your storybooks. There are no woodcutters. There are no riders and no slayers of beasts coming for_ **you** _. I am your only hope in a sea of ash and dust, veined with burning lava. Come to-"_

Pain. Intense pain in her hand. Manah had jabbed something into it, and the shock of the act had broken Benezia's concentration. Benezia smiled: this was a temporary setback. She would find her again, and she would torment her again, and no one would be able to stop her.

Benezia breathed deeply, and slowly, and tried to find the glowing ember of her willful, wayward daughter., tasting of fear and torment... but a sound echoed in the darkness, and the source was a green ember on the edge of becoming a flame, an old soul, tasting of a quiet sorrow and...

The soul stared at her, and just like before, her concentration had been ruined, only this time by her racing heart. No matter: Benezia had caught Manah's scent, and with a thought she set Caim and his men on her trail.

Still, that soul, that core of sorrow burning bright with an ancient intensity... who did it belong to?

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**USSV Durendal - Port ordnance launcher - October 7th - 1830 hours**

"You _cannot_ be serious." said Jensen.

"Yes, I _am_ serious," replied Hein. "Look, Jumping from high orbit and landing just outside of Syneu is the only way to bypass the Templar's security. If you land with everyone else the Templars will scan you at customs, realize what you are, and kill you. And they can kill you, make no mistake about it. Don't even think that the 108 makes you invincible."

"We're talking about putting me in a torpedo and launching me at a planet!"

"Details! Now shut up and get in there."

Jensen sighed as he laid down in the large, almost coffin-like tube of metal and carbon, and Hein helped him get strapped in securely.

"First time, Jensen?" asked Jane as she double checked her webbing and the combat vest she wore on top of the Corvo suit.

"I once took a Low Earth Orbit shuttle from Singapore and crashed it into the Arctic Ocean. Not keen on doing it again."

"Oh!" exclaimed Hein as he withdrew a weapon from inside his coat. It was a compact crossbow, collapsed inside a leather scabbard. "I almost forgot: Corporal Proudfoot, before you go into your pod, meet Draco. It's self-cocking, but for the sake of space I had to ditch the ammo box and most of what makes Maria cool. Still, combined with these..." He handed her the weapon, along with a box of bolts. "... carbon bolts I tested on the Slave Barge, you'll be able to silently take down a fully armored Templar at two hundred meters, provided you nail them in the sweet spot. Use it wisely, you've only got twenty bolts."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, Jensen? time's a-wasting..." Hein closed the cylindrical casket, and suddenly, its interior was flooded in gel. Hein's voice came through in Jensen's closed helmet. _"Don't worry, this non-newtonian fluid is designed to keep the landing from killing you, in case the high-density gas launchers fail. And don't worry, you won't be landing in ice water this time."_

"Well, that's a relief. Swimming in the Arctic was not fun."

_"It's far more likely you'll land in the lava."_

"Wait, wha-"

"GERONIMO!" Hein pressed the launch button, and Jensen was magnetically hurled towards Caleston.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

She remembered hating her keepers, those cold, silent Justicars that constantly glared at her, inspecting her work, making sure everyone she spoke to stayed at a respectable distance. That had been how the revolt had begun: she had been the lit match that had ignited the oil: one of the workers had tried to help her get up. He had touched her, and felt an unimaginable delight course through his being.

The three justicars saw this, and exacted a punishment on him. His friends saw them, and tried to claim vengeance... and before long chaos had broken loose. That had been seven days ago.

When the Justicars tried to leave with Manah in tow, the Red Dragon came down, and its rider dismounted from the frightening machine. The Justicars believed him a fool to face them on his own, but they had greatly underestimated him.

She could never forget the sight of him cutting through all three of them with one stroke of his oversized blade. Though they had been cut down, they hadn't died immediately. They had been so superior, so unflappable even as the riot they caused raged around them. When the rider cut through them, they whimpered lamely as they tried to reach for their missing halves. One of them tried the stuff her intestines back in her belly. Yes, she hated them, but she never wished them to die so horribly.

Or did she?

She remembered the dragon rider seeing her and grinning like a madman, slowly walking towards her. She panicked, and ran, and only the chaos of the revolt saved her from being captured. Now she hid in the backstreets of a slum, the result of too much breeding and not enough work to go around, the rush of industry and commerce on Caleston having slowed then and yet left so many behind.

She had remained unseen in a cloak made out of a ruined piece of cloth that served as a mat for a poor old man that had died of disease or starvation. She had subsisted on eating whatever scraps of food she found, and drank whatever leaked out of toilet pipes. It was barely enough, and now after six days of this, she was filthy, hungry, and thirsty.

She wanted to ask someone to help her, but the Geis wouldn't let her.

She wanted to beg for food, but the Geis wouldn't let her.

She wanted to beg alms, but the Geis wouldn't let her.

She wanted to return to the monastery...and that, the Geis would allow her. Only the Justicars could feed her, clothe her, and take care of her. To run away from them meant that the Geis they burned into her skull would do everything in its power to sabotage her attempts at survival beyond the reach of her caretakers... her jailors.

But she would never return to them, she would never return to her mother. She would not give up the freedom that she had found. She would prefer to starve and die of thirst in this pile of filth the go back into that cage of ancient, carved stone.

It was night now, nearly dawn, and from the backstreet that was her temporary home, she could see a falling star, and for a moment she was a child again, a child that loved storybooks and fairy tales, and wished for a knight to come and rescue her from this place, and the Templars that hounded her.

But then she snapped herself back to reality. Here, there were monsters, both animal and sapient, aplenty, and the tales told no lies about those... but heroes? Those were pure fiction, lies concocted by parents to give false hope to despairing children.

She reminded herself that the falling star was just another piece of space debris entering the atmosphere, and cried herself to sleep.

And then the screaming started, and she awoke, and saw the Red Dragon set fire to everything. It had come for her, and fear fueled her flight.

As her worn shoes hit the dirty concrete ground, she silently prayed:

_"Someone, anyone, save me from this!..."_

**~[h+]~**

* * *

_"Someone, anyone, save me from this!..."_

Jensen thought he heard someone speak to him, but paid no mind. But something old and ancient paid heed, and responded.

Jensen's Icarus Landing system overloaded and activated, and he veered off course.

"Jensen! What is g...ing...on?! Y...ff course!"

"Hein! What the hell did you do?!"

"...nt...hear..."

Jensen cursed at his radio even as he was bathed in yellow light.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

The shantytown was on fire, and Manah could do nothing but run. She could hear screaming all around her, the poor, disenfranchised humans scrambling to escape their doom.

"COME ON OUT," screamed the Red Dragon. "COME ON OUT, ALIEN WHORE, BEFORE I BURN EVERYTHING AROUND YOU!"

Manah could see the giant, bipedal machine breathe an intense stream of flame from its mouth, melting shacks and igniting flesh with wild abandon. The screams lasted only a few seconds under the onslaught, and while Manah was seeing this from quite a distance away, the smell of burnt flesh reached her nose, blown her way by the hot winds. She wanted to retch, but held it in and focused on running away, as far as her legs could take her.

And ran she did, and she would have run to the other side of the world had she not tripped on something, and her forehead hit the gravel. She tried to get up, and saw what had barred her feet's way.

It was the trampled corpse of a mother and her child, crushed under the weight of a stampede of panicked people. The sight was a final onslaught of horror, and the consequences of her actions were finally realized. If only she hadn't been here, if only the Red Dragon and the Templars had not come looking for her here, then that mother and her child would have lived.

"COME OUT, AND RETURN TO THE BLACK QUEEN!" screamed the Red Dragon.

If she had simply submitted, and gone back to her mother sooner, none of this would have happened. She had wanted to be free. Was that so selfish? As she looked around her, at the sight of burning homes and trampled corpses, she realized that the answer was yes. Her freedom had cost far, far too many lives.

She got back up, and walked towards the source of the carnage like a condemned woman, and when she was within shouting distance of the monster, she screamed.

"I'm here! Take me back to my mother! Just..." tears welled up in her eyes and she fell on her knees. "Just stop this! I don't want this blood on my hands anymore!..."

But the Red Dragon laughed, paid her no heed, and continued the slaughter, Two Templars, in fine armor that granted them the power of flight, landed near her. One was obviously a man, large and powerful, and the other was slender, a woman.

"Oh, look at her, Leon..." said the woman. "Her skin is like baked sugar! Oh! Why does the black queen hurt me so by denying me such a treat? Let me caress her with my tongue, just once..."

"...Resist your urges, Ari." said the man. "Diablerie exudes from her pores, and it can sunder even your fractured will to enslave you." He pointed a black staff at Manah, and from its tip sprang a glowing blade. "Do you know how long we've been looking for you?"

"Six days." replied Manah. "Six, miserable, long days..."

"Do you know how many men and women Lord Commander Caim has carved his way through in his search for you? Do you know how many people died in the revolt you and your minders have caused?"

"I know! And I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Please, make him stop!"

"...Very well. I am glad to see you have seen God's wisdom." Leon activated his helm's communicator. "Lord Caim. We have found her. She has submitted."

The huge man-shaped machine stopped its carnage, and slowly made its way towards Manah. Once she was within reach, it wrapped its metallic fingers around her torso. It brought her close to its chest, and the chestplate opened in two, revealing a dark-haired young man, his tanned face scratched with scars. Sets of his various personal swords were mounted on mechanical racks on each side of his metal seat. Caim, the Dragon Rider, looked at her with contempt, held out his hand at her, and squeezed. The machine imitated the act, and Manah could feel her insides being crushed.

"Ah!..."

"...I don't know what the Black Queen sees in such a tiny, useless whelp of a creature such as you, and it is my love for the Queen that keeps me from squeezing the life out of you."

"...What, you feel... for her isn't love... The Masque is controlling you, all of - AH!"

Caim squeezed a bit harder. "Don't mock me, witch! My loyalty is true, my will is my own, and my fuse is short! I have not had my fill of death this night!"

"...Do it. Slake your hunger, then."

"What?"

"Do it, Kill me - I don't care anymore! All I do is destroy things around me simply by existing. My death will be a release, and my mother will not truly care... show how loyal you are, how willful you are... Do it."

"Hah! As you wish!"

"My Lord!" Leon protested, "No! The Queen's commands!"

Caim was about to squeeze, but stopped himself at the sudden crack of thunder and the roar of a meteor fast approaching. Before the Templars could spot it, it crashed nearby, causing an explosion of green vapor and yellow lighting. The blast was strong enough to push Leon and Ari back, and the crater the object made when it landed was smaller than expected. The Templars were confused, and approached the object. It was a cylinder, and they recognized it as a drop pod. The cylinder's main hatch burst open, knocked away by a powerful black limb. A dark figure climbed out of it, yellow lightning crackling around its silhouette. It stumbled out, holding its sides in pain, and rose.

**~[h+]~**

* * *

Jensen stumbled out of the pod, the impact gel sublimating all around him. He swore to himself that once he got back on the Durendal, Hein would pay dearly for what he just put him through. Oh yes, there would be a reckoning for this.

He looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He was in a shantytown, that much was certain, and once the ringing in his head stopped, he realized that it was on fire.

"Goddamnit," he muttered to himself, "Why did it have to be fire... I _hate_ fire!" Had he caused this when he crashed? No, the blaze was too widespread. He heard the footfall of a 30 ton giant, and turned in its direction. There were two Seraph-wearing Templars and a red colored Wyvern Wanzer standing there, staring confusedly at him. The Wanzer held a young woman in its hand, and Jensen recognized her immediately. She was dirty, but there was no mistaking her red eyes and white skin, and long crest.

It was Manah T'soni.

The Wyvern's cockpit closed, and Jensen felt a light being shined on him coming from the Wanzer's head. He was being scanned.

"ABOMINATION!"

The Wyvern's mouth opened, and plasma gathered in it. The Seraphs fired their jets. One of them twirled his spear, the other activated her Omni-Tool, conjuring some kind some kind of spiked, half-circle of a sword, and they began their attack.

Jensen extended the Fandango from his right arm, and it sang, ready to taste steel.

The fight had begun.

**~[h+]~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Special Thanks to Brellin at the Spacebattles forums for helping me sort out Marine Ranks. This isn't like Star Trek, folks. You got Sergeants with as much authority as lieutenants, or something. I'm still not sure. Also, moar thanks to Setokaiva for the spell checking.


	4. Regicide

"Goddamned lazy _pendejos!_ " cursed Vega as he fixed the Mako II's suspension with just an Omni-tool. That low-orbit drop had not been kind to the machinery, and the ash kicked up by the wind had gummed up some of the works. Finding that Mining station on the way to the artifact site had been a blessing - or it should have been, if those damned miners could be bothered to get off their lazy asses. They were nowhere to be seen around the garage, but he had been told they were everywhere else on the station that didn't involve any physical work whatsoever.

Vega took time to admire his handiwork, and the Mako II itself: the design was basically the first Mako IFV, but with modifications based on user feedback straight from the field. It was roomier, had better traction, and had rear mounted micro-jets to give it that extra push needed to climb that steep cliff. If the Mako I had heart, then the Mako II had soul. Still, it had quirks of its own, and a shitty suspension was one of them. The filter-less intakes were another.

"Vega to Anderson?

_"Anderson here. Got something to report?"_

"The suspension's fixed and I'm about to spray the engine with some cleansing fluid to clean out the ash. Should be ready to go in half an hour."

_"Good work, Vega. We won't be long, just as soon as we figure out what happened to the miners."_

"They're not dead, just lazy, sir."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"They'll be dead soon if we can't snap them out of this lethargy, Vega." said Anderson over the TAC-Com. He was with Jondum Bau in the Foreman Dobson's office, looking over an email correspondence between him and Foreman Parker, the leader of the miner's rights movement. Near as they could tell, Parker had decided to completely shut down the flow of raw Element Zero by going on strike. The contents of the last email read as such:

_Redwater and the Temps don't want to deal? Fine. Tell everyone to STOP WORKING. The fat cats want their eezo? They can mine it their own damned selves until they give us what we want._

And Dobson and his men had taken the 'stop working' part quite seriously. Too seriously. Dobson was asleep at his desk, smelling of sweat, piss and shit, and no amount of prodding could wake him. The other miners and techs were in their quarters or in the rec room, either getting high on weed or just watching an huge playlist of vids on a shuffle loop. They were conscious, but attempts at communicating with them were met with disinterested mumbles. Taylor had tried using a stim on one, but it only succeeded in raising the miner's heart rate by one beat per minute.

"Benezia's influence over these people is... stronger than I imagined." commented Bau. "Whatever brainwashing technology she used on these men, it seems to be affecting the whole planet."

Bau and the Normandy team had boarded the Ascalon, before making a drop onto Caleston's surface. They spent hours investigating the ghost ship, fighting the occasional Geth. From the crew's personal logs, it was obvious that Benezia had mentally compromised them somehow, and then did the same to certain members of Caleston's communities, if the security logs were anything to go by. But exactly how she accomplished this? That part eluded the Spectre. Anderson was a bit skeptical, naturally.

"I'm still not sure I buy this whole hypnosis thing. If she had that ability, She would have captured T'soni with the Templars at her disposal, and taken the artifact with the help of the miners. Instead the miners choke up the supply of element zero, ruin the local economy and Syneu becomes a police state under Templar rule. If the news stream we've been catching is any indication, it's chaos down there."

"We assumed that T'soni and the artifact were her primary goals, mostly because those were what I would be after in her place. Maybe the true goal _is_ to sow chaos. Saren... had always been vocal about humanity's growth, and in one of his more infamous rants he claimed that Sol was one bad day away from becoming a small Terminus system. Maybe Caleston is a test to prove that theory..."

Anderson shook his head. Saren, planning to destroy humanity through sociology? What was the point of marshaling a force of synthetics, then?

He decided to check on the rest of the Squad. Maybe they had found something more concrete: a canister of sleeping gas, maybe.

"Anderson to squad, report."

_"Vega here: still working on the IFV, sir."_

_"Taylor here: I tried every med combination I can think of. Unless you want me to risk heart attacks I can't get these people out of their funk, sir."_

_"Wrex here, still looking for decent loot."_

_"Jenkins here, err- nothing to report, sir."_

_"Williams here: I'd just like to report that Wrex and Jenkins just stuffed some bags of weed into their packs. Sir."_

_"What?" asked Wrex. "We asked if we could take it. The guy said yes!"_

_"He just grunted and drooled!"_

"No blazing on the job, you two. I shouldn't have to remind you of this."

 _"I wasn't going to blaze!"_ protested Jenkins. _"Honest!"_

 _"I did see a lot of Marijuana plants in hydroponics, sir. "_ Commented Taylor. _"Maybe they modified it, or Caleston's soil altered it? We should bring some back to Dr Chakwas for analysis, just in case."_

"Agreed; Jenkins, you mark those bags as bio-hazardous samples, got it?"

_"Yes, sir."_

"I think we've seen all that we needed to see and done all that we can here. Everyone, head back to the garage. Once we've secured the artifact, I'll be sure to call Alliance Command to send relief efforts."

"Agreed," replied Bau. "We've lost enough time as it is."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Man, this Mako II handles like a dream!" exclaimed Vega.

"Watch out for the river of lava, goddammit!" screamed Williams as Vega swerved the vehicle a little too close to a cliff for comfort. "Ever heard of convection?! I don't want to cook inside this thing!"

"Aw, quit your bellyaching, woman!" chuckled Wrex. The Krogan was sitting in the auto-cannon turret, having taken on the job of gunner due to his 'extensive experience in heavy weapons'. "A little pants-shitting terror goes a long way towards keeping your mind sharp. It's good for ya!"

"And it's a straight way to the Artifact site, in any case." said Vega as he stepped on the accelerator. "So relax and enjoy the ride!"

The mission had changed. Lord-Captain Bafford's logs detailed a working Prothean artifact excavated by RedWater Mining, and the Asari archaeologists that the company had consulted had, strangely enough, omitted to mention that in their reports to the University of Thessia. Bau thought he should look into this, as withholding functioning Prothean tech was a severe crime in Council space. More urgently, neither Bau nor Anderson wanted to see a repeat of Eden Prime, and decided to secure or destroy the Prothean monolith before Saren got wind of it.

T'soni... T'soni was now a secondary concern. Bau hoped to find her at the dig site, but judging from the logs on the Ascalon and from the situation on Syneu, he didn't expect her to be alive.

"Sir!" Taylor called out to Anderson. "I've got a huge contact on the scopes! Displacement is frigate class, profile is Thessian... It's the Waking Dreamer, approaching fast from our six o'clock!"

"Patch me through to the Normandy!" commanded Anderson.

"Already done, sir!"

"Joker, we're going to need air supp-"

"Wait," interrupted Taylor. "It's ignoring us!"

"They can't have missed us!" exclaimed Vega. "We're in the middle of a field kicking up ashes at seventy kilometers an hour!"

"It's dropping something on our way: heavy mass signatures, five of them, half a click in front of us and closing!"

"I see them!" shouted Wrex. "Geth platforms, huge ones!"

"Colossi?" asked Bau.

"I see them too! Two arms, two legs... No..." muttered Vega. "They're Wanzers. _Geth_ Wanzers!..."

Everyone in the passenger cabin looked at each other in horror.

"Urdnot." said Anderson, his voice cold. "Fire at will."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

_**Earlier...** _

After hours of radio silence, Hein had finally decided to communicate with the Deep Eyes. Apparently, the Normandy had arrived early, and Hein had been forced to run the ship as silently as possible to avoid being detected. Apparently the Alliance vessel had just dipped low to make an orbital drop, and the window of opportunity to speak with the ground team was only ten minutes long. From within the Spooky truck, Grey relayed the events of the past few hours in as few words as possible, and Hein processed everything he said.

"We're still go for the recovery mission, sir. We've still got a covert route into the Prothean Monolith and a way off planet should we need it. Alternatively, we could use the IFF for a quick airdrop near the dig site."

 _"And alert every Templar in the area. I'm not interested in sending you on a suicide mission, Captain."_ Hein's frown flickered on the monitor. " _Secure your Copperhead and then proceed to the Prothean Undercity."_

"Is it just me," whispered Garrus to Jensen, "Or is the Colonel being... reasonable?" Jensen shushed him.

"There's also the matter of T'soni's safety. There isn't a spot on Caleston that the Templars won't find her and while she's safer with us than anyone else, we're headed into harm's way. We could have Highwind fly her to you, but once we take off the Templars will be onto our hijacked IFF fairly quickly. It would be a one way trip, but the mission would be mostly successful and we'd be on our way to accomplish our second objective."

_"And then you'd have to take on an entire Templar battalion to get off the planet. Again, not interested in a suicide mission."_

"...Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Always."

"We've made the situation on Caleston worse by staying here. And Benezia's... abilities are an unknown we're simply neither trained nor prepared for. T'soni's safe. We should cash in our chips and go home."

_"Hm hm... Mr. Shadow? Do you share that sentiment?"_

Grey and Jensen frowned under their helmets, surprised by the question. What did Hein care about Adam's input- and why?

Jensen put some thought into it, and found himself agreeing with Grey. "I think he's right. I can get in and out of a highly secure facility or even a military bunker well enough, but dealing with a nearly omniscient Asari that can get inside your head thanks to an alien device is outside my area of expertise."

Hein snorted derisively. _"What's the matter, you two? Thought you'd shoot up some aliens and save the day, Captain? And you..."_ he then eyed Jensen. _"...probably thought you'd crawl in a few vents, hack a few terminals and then go home, hm?"_

"Ah, there's the Hein we know." Neil whispered to Garrus, who nodded quietly.

Grey gritted his teeth, repressing his anger at being toyed with. "Sir, we don't have the experience to-"

 _"You have no idea what's at stake here, what Benezia really represents. There is no training module, no VR sim to help you deal with the likes of her, and the fate of the galaxy may very well depend on all of you earning that experience, the wisdom to face that insanity."_ Then, Hein's expression softened, and Grey was unnerved by how quickly he could switch emotional gears. Aki swore to Grey that Hein wasn't a psychopath, but sometimes he wondered... _"But you're right. It's a bit too much to handle, isn't it? The sane thing to do is to leave, but the important thing to do is to stay the course. Let's bring in a tie-breaker. Ms. T'soni?"_

The young Asari girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Y-yes?"

_"Seeing as these two gentlemen are so concerned for your safety, what do you think we should do now? Should we abandon the relic to Benezia and save everyone in this truck, including yourself?"_

Manah was not used to this, to be asked to make such a major decision. She had always followed the path others had set for her: Her mother's, the Justicars'. And now these strange, short-lived aliens were giving her such an important choice to make. It was almost overwhelming...

"I don't want to see anyone else get hurt for my sake... But I...I just want to be safe."

"Well," said Ryan. "I'd say that settles it. Let's get out of here."

"No, wait! Let me finish..." Manah took a deep breath. "The Prothean monolith is... it represents an aspect of Prothean civilization that we've never seen before... Something that might be even more powerful than the manipulation of Dark Energy! I can't allow my mother to take it, and if you are going to take it away from her, then for you to succeed I MUST come with you. Opening up the Monolith requires my expertise, as will walking through the maze of the Undercity."

"We'll be going up against Templars, your mother's personal guard, maybe even the Geth." stated Ryan. "Do you understand that we can't guarantee your safety should we encounter them?"

"I understand... but my life, in the grand scheme of things, is not important."

Hein smiled approvingly. _"Well then, there you have it gentlemen. Are you going to show less spine than a petite Asari?"_

"...No, sir." said Grey. "We're going to proceed with the mission. If we personally encounter Benezia, what are we to do? Capture her?"

_"If you can, yes. If not... then kill her. Durendal out."_

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

On the Durendal's CIC, Dr. Ross glared daggers at Hein.

"You should have ordered them to come back!" she rebuked. "The situation on Caleston-"

"The situation on Caleston will only get worse as long as that artifact remains on the planet."

"Then we should let the Alliance handle it! You've seen that orbital drop vector, they're headed there right now!"

"The Alliance?" Hein voice ran cold, his usual devil-may-care attitude gone. "I had faith in the Alliance, once, and I gave them my finest creation. And do you know what they did with...it? Do you know what they did, hm? _They threw it away._ "

Ross wasn't sure what Hein meant... was he talking about the Durendal? No, that wasn't right, the Durendal was a United States project, and the Alliance had been the one to pick up its pieces.

"The Alliance..." Hein continued, his voice dripping with a bitter venom. "...has failed me, completely and utterly. It has proven itself undeserving of the true gift of the Protheans... We're on the edge of a revolution, Dr Ross, and I intend to leave the Alliance and its masters behind to stew in their own obsolescence... And besides..." Hein put his smile back on. "Anderson seems to have an intense dislike for me."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

While the GARDIAN system protecting the airspace above Syneu was an ironclad web, the Starport's security was... less so. The area reserved for small VTOL craft like the Copperhead was protected by a chain link fence and barbed wire. Hashmal infantry support mechs patrolled the area, but for a stealthy cyborg with two hackers and a pilot in tow, they had proven surprisingly easy to deal with. Jensen approached them cloaked, stuck a small wireless device on their software maintenance ports, and Moody hacked into the mechs using a computer mounted in his arm, an old ORION-COMP 2080 modded to have the full functions of an Omni-Tool. Thanks to Moody's hacks, the Hashmalim would be staying perfectly still, completely blind, but the data they transmitted back to their control center would make them appear to be functional and on patrol.

"Couldn't you hack those to be loyal to us?" asked Neil. He and the Spookies were hiding in a ditch while Jensen sneaked about. "My pals could use the firepower when they go down there."

"Sure, I could!" said Moody. "But then I'd have to cut off the Hashmal's data feed to its Command and Control system, and that would send the whole place into high alert."

"Just be glad they're not shooting at us with those heavy machine guns, dude!" added Manuel. "Or those plasma throw-Whoa!"

Manuel yelped as Jensen landed besides him and decloaked. "That's the last of them, the way to the Copperhead's landing pad is clear. Let's go."

They made their way to the landing pad and, once again, the Spookies had to hide while Jensen took down a few patrolling Templars while Neil covered him with his DMR. The dark-armored cyborg rendered four Knights unconscious with ease, but a Crusader would have nearly spotted Jensen's handiwork had Neil not distracted the heavily armored soldier by shooting out a nearby light. Adam quickly dispatched the Crusader by kicking him in the back of the knee, tearing off his helmet's faceplate, and shoving a stunner right into his face.

"Thanks." said Jensen through his wireless, grateful for the support.

"Anytime," replied Neil as he signaled the Spookies to come out of hiding and get to work. "Hey, Je- I mean, Shadow... I've been meaning to ask: how much time have you spent under cloak just now?"

"...I'd say about ten minutes, why?"

"...Ten minutes?! And you haven't gone bonkers?"

"I'm missing something here. What are you even talking about?"

"EM-based personal cloaking systems like yours tend to cause severe psychosis through overuse. Look, are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"...I'm fine. Cloaking for long periods of time has never been a problem for me."

"Well, that's just... huh, you know what? Never mind. We still have some work to do."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

_"Moody to Spooky Truck, come in, Mister Wolf?"_

"Wolf here," replied Grey. "Got something to report?"

_"The IFF pulse beacon is plugged in and your bird is ready for a big damn rescue. Shadow's on his way back and Highwind's at the pilot's seat. Hey, Wolf? Once this DARPA fella has us sign his paperwork, you think we can drop the whole codenames nonsense? I can barely keep those stupid things straight. Maybe we could do a proper round of re-introductions over a beer when this is all over? What do you say?"_

Grey smiled at that: A beer did sound real nice right then. "Sure. First round's on me."

 _"Count me in,"_ said Neil over the wireless. _"I think we could all use a drink after this."_

"You going to be okay stuck in that cockpit, Neil?"

_"Aw, don't you worry about me, I've got company... But, I'm not sure I feel okay about leaving you guys to do the hard work while I just sit here..."_

Left unsaid was the reminder of the events of Akuze, from Neil's perspective. With only a lightly armed drop ship, he was unable to help anyone on the ground. The Thresher Maws made landing impossible, and Neil was forced to hear his comrades scream over the wireless as they were devoured by the acid spit of the Maws.

"Don't you worry, Neil. We're all coming back. Count on it."

Jensen entered the truck, and Grey started up the engine.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

To pass the time on the way to the nearest elevator to the Undercity, Jane had decided to show Manah the coins she had taken from Atkins' stash, if only to figure out what was so special about old pieces of bronze with a worthless yellow green gem set inside of it.

Manah finished eating her second ration bar, and examined the coins that Jane set on the table. "Prothean Macca, from the hundredth and seventh era."

"Are they worth anything?" asked Jane.

"Most of them? Nothing, but the see the glow in these ones?" Manah set aside seven of the Prothean coins. Their gems, indeed, glowed a faint light. "These are considered priceless, since the gems are full."

"Full of what?"

"Energy. Each Prothean Macca coin contains about, let me do some conversion..." Manah did some quick mathematics in her head, counting with her fingers. "...Around seven of your gigajoules in potential thermal and electrical energy."

Jane whistled. "That's... wow, that's easily half as much as what you get in an OVO can. Wait, Protheans used super-batteries as _currency_?"

"Protheans apparently saw little worth in paper or precious metals. Energy was far more useful to them, and they centered their economy on it."

"You'd think they'd base their economy around Eezo."

"And Element Zero itself is worth little without electric energy."

"Hm, I guess you got a point there. So uh, how much to these things go on the market? A lot?"

"That depends on who you're selling it to. Artifact collectors are willing to pay at least a million credits for a fully charged Macca coin, and only five thousand at most for an intact but discharged one."

"Well damn, if I had known ancient batteries were worth so much, I'd have taken a whole lot more!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

While Manah and Jane were discussing ancient batteries, Ryan was busy dealing with modern-day ones by swapping out the Bio-electric gel from one of the Spooky truck's spare OVO tanks into Garrus' salvaged particle gun. The Longinus, instead of using regular OVO cans, had a 600ml rod-shaped container fitted on the length of the gun's barrel, insulated from the gun's heat by a thin layer of Aerogel. It made wielding it in its sword mode less awkward to wield, but replacing the battery was tricky. Having no spare Bio-electric gel rods, swapping out the gel was the only way to bring it back into full charge.

"Alright, that should give you twelve shots to work with," said Ryan as he handed to freshly charged weapon back to Garrus. "Try to keep at least some power in the battery: the gun's sword mode also needs some juice."

"Sword mode, huh?" said Garrus, as the weapon folded back into storage mode. "Can you explain to me something? Why do the Templars like hand-to-hand combat so much to the point of integrating melee weapons into their guns? Those Katara rifles they use look like big knives, and then you've got this particle rifle here. I mean, I get the idea: Guns are cool. Swords are cool. But bringing the two together? It seems a bit... silly."

"It's not a new idea. I mean, back on Earth? We used to fix bayonets on muskets a few centuries back."

"Right, but times have changed: swords and spears are outdated weapons on the battlefield."

"Times are changing right now, too. The armor I'm wearing can absorb a great deal of small arms fire, shield or no shield, and it's not even made with modern CNT materials. Personal protection technology is starting to catch up with kinetic offensive technology, and soon the only reliable way for a soldier to kill another soldier is by using high-energy melee weapons, like heat knives or high-frequency blades."

"I guess the Templars want to be ready for when war changes back to constant, bloody hand-to-hand carnage."

Certain that Garrus was all set up, Ryan approached the Asari archeologist. "Excuse me, Mrs. T'soni? Seeing as you'll be coming with us, I think you should put this on." He put a thick belt with a heavy buckle on the table. "Moody had this laying around. It's a civilian-grade personal kinetic barrier, could you put this on so we won't have to worry too much about you getting hit by a stray bullet?

"Oh! Yes, of course, thank you." She proceeded to strap the belt around her waist and pressed its activation switch. The shield belt calibrated itself to her form, and a blue aura flickered across her body for a moment.

"Don't go thinking you're invincible with that thing on, okay?" said Jane. "If there's shooting, you run and hide or, failing that, hide behind the thickest piece of cover you can find."

"Everyone!" Grey said out loud from the cab. The truck slowed down, and parked in front of a factory owned by RedWater. "We've arrived at the access points. Double check your gear, and let's get moving. Shadow, Jane? Moody tells me this place is guarded by a handful of security guards. Take them out quietly and non-lethally."

Grey opened the side door that led out of the semi-trailer, and stepped out. Everyone followed him out, ready to head deep underground into the unknown.

"Let's get to work, people."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Caim sat near a pile made out of the corpses of the young fools that thought they could take on the might of God's own army. It had only been thirty minutes since the hostilities ended. The gangs had fought bravely, and had fought to the bitter end. Of course, Caim was a master at making ends so very bitter.

He examined his favored weapon: a curved, wide black blade the length of a man, like a cleaver but thicker and longer. Its edge cooled, and Caim proceeded to wipe off the burnt blood caked on it with a dry cloth. He had done this so many times it had become a sort of ritual.

Then the hunger came again.

Ever since Mindoir, ever since he had witnessed the terrible fate that the Alien priests had put his family through, the hunger had been there. It was not a hunger of the body. Food did not sate it, no matter how much he ate.

When Inquisitor Grissom had taken him in, he had said that it was a hunger of the soul, and that only a life spent in the service of God could fill that terrible void. Caim had believed him, and had gone through the torturous training regimen that made all Templars a force to be reckoned with. He had learned the mantras and the prayers, learned the bibles by heart, and had faithfully observed the holy days. Yet that screaming void inside of him did not subside.

And then a man had died by his hand for the very first time, and he felt the hunger still itself for a moment. The relief had been so... palpable, so soothing, and yet his blood still ran hot. Death, violent and bloody, was what Caim needed to relieve the pain, and the stronger the kill, the more his spirit was soothed. He threw himself into combat with such wild Zeal that his superiors had taken notice, had examined his worth as a leader of men, and had not found him lacking in the least.

"Lord Commander?" a timid young Scribe came up besides him and gave a proper Templar salute by crossing his arms over his heart and taking a slight bow.

Caim nodded in his direction. "Scribe? What news do you bring me?"

"The Artisans sent me to report to you that your Wanzer has been repaired. Lord Major Vael also reported that he has dealt with the situation in the Alienage by dispatching a dozen Hashmalim to suppress the gathering crowd. They've returned peacefully to their...business."

"Hmph. Vael always was too bloody soft. He should have just killed them all."

"...Is, that an order, milord?"

"No." after all, what sport could a bunch filthy alien hedonists offer him? "What of my Coterie? Are they well?"

"Ah, the healers have begun reattaching the legs of Ser Hart, and he should recover within two days. Ser Osha's injuries are more severe, her spine is cracked, and careful work will have to be done to restore her."

"Good... Good. Anything else to report?"

"Nothing else, milord."

"Then you are dismissed, Scribe."

"Thank you, milord. May the god Bapho- ungh!" The scribe lost his balance for a moment, and shook his head in confusion. "...May... may the Black Queen watch over you." The scribe saluted again, and left Caim to ponder his next move.

The hardened Templar's thoughts wandered back to the Abomination that had taken T'soni from his grasp, and defeated both if his companions so... completely. Thoughts of vengeance begat feelings of eagerness. He wanted to face him again, and destroy him so utterly.

He hoped the Black Queen would give him another chance...

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The Matriarch sat cross-legged in front of the Prothean Monolith, meditating on its form as its power hummed through the air, a forbidding, electric aura that challenged anyone that came near it to glean secrets from it at the risk of their sanity. Heat from Caleston's core made it warm to the touch, while the air that came from above through the wide shaft that RedWater had built above it cooled it down.

The Matriarch kept her distance, paying heed to that aura, denying herself the power, waiting patiently for the researchers under her command to unlock the device and allow her to bring its knowledge to her Lord Saren.

The Black Queen drank from that aura, whetting her own appetite, eager for the men under her thrall to force the Grimoire open and allow her to claim this portion of the power of Aleph for herself.

Who was Aleph, she wondered? The name echoed in her thoughts, but she could not recall who it belonged to. She had been asleep for far too long...

The Matriarch had wanted Caleston under her control, and when she planted herself into the minds of the Senior Templars on that world she had commanded them to do as they always did, but for her sake.

The Black Queen wanted Vulcanus lost to all dominion, to all reason, and when she wormed her way into the souls of every pillar of Caleston's community, she had seduced them into indulging their true desires, at the cost of everything around them.

The Matriarch did not oppose the Black Queen.

The Black Queen did not thwart the Matriarch.

The Matriarch realized how odd this was... how could one person want two mutually different things? How could she serve Saren, with her mind so divided?

 _"Ah, Benezia... Even now you long to please your master, as you indulge your personal envies."_ the matriarch felt someone press behind her, and a hand with a skin of liquid metal, dark blue with a red glint, reached out and caressed her left breast. Another hand caressed the small of her back, and Benezia's skin became flush with blood. The Black Queen's ghostly touch was electric, soothing, and disarming. _"Saren is far, far away from here, and right now, right here, there is only **you**..."_

The Matriarch looked around her: no one paid heed to the regal, dark figure behind her. Only she could see her, hear her...

"...Ah!"

...Feel her, as she bit her ear.

_"You could have called upon him the minute you saw this prize, but you wanted it all to yourself... No, that's not right. You wanted **Manah** all to yourself."_

"I want Manah to serve Saren, as I serve him."

_"Serve? Oh, she will serve him, indeed. How long before your so-called Lord Saren would fall for her innocent charms, and his thoughts turn to her more and more, and her whispers begin to take hold in his black heart? She was always beautiful, and so, so very fragile, like a flower... so unlike you, an old, imperious pillar of stone, ever calm. Her heart burned with the flame of youth while yours withered into a block of ice as age began to show its marks on the texture of your skin. Even as she smiled at you lovingly, you wanted nothing more than strangle the very life out of her!"_

"No, it isn't true... I... I have always loved my daughters."

_"Was it love that made you send Manah away to be locked up in a tower of pale stone, never to be seen again? Was it love that drove you to put her in the tender care of the Justicars to be beaten, scarred, and violated into submission?"_

"She has a condition, she needed to be protected..."

_"Does it still hurt, the sight of your poor little wing's eyes, empty of all spirit for all eternity? Does it still hurt to remember what it feels like to see her life flee her body as you held that pillow tight against her face?"_

"It was an accident!... She couldn't help it!"

_The dark figure hugged her from behind. "Oh, you poor thing!... I see that it still does! And the knowledge that Manah would spend a lifetime imprisoned brought you such succor."_

"...Yes. It felt... good. It felt good to watch her cry and scream as the Justicars came to take her away..."

_"Yes, open yourself to the shadows of your heart..."_

"Yes, it felt good to know that she would suffer for the sorrow she had wrought... and then I heard the news: Manah had seduced her jailors with the promise of a deeper understanding of the ancient Protheans, and all I wanted to do at that moment was hunt her down and make her _pay..._ "

_"Yes, embrace what you are, embrace your dark desires, and I shall give you all that you wish for... I shall grant you an eternity of pleasures, a perpetuity of youth, and power everlasting... and most importantly of all..."_

"...We shall make Manah suffer for an aeon."

_**"Yes, I shall..."** _

The dark figure became as smoke, and melted into the body of the Matriarch, and just like that, she became as much a part of the Black Queen as the Black Queen became part of her. Her awareness of the world increased ten-fold, and she could feel... _everything_ in it. It was almost overwhelming, this power to turn the souls of everyone around her to whatever purposes she required. She could feel the electricity that ran through her Biotic nodes, every single one of them pulsed in unison. She lifted herself up, and she floated just a few inches above the ground, and the exercise did not tire her at all. Yes, this was proper. When next Saren saw her he would see her as an equal... and perhaps, something more.

As if inspired by her newfound focus and presence, the Templar sages around her redoubled their efforts, and managed to unmake one of the locks on the Monolith. It opened slightly, and a beam of orange-red light shot up above.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"See?" shouted Wrex as the last of the Geth Wanzers fell into a lifeless, smoking heap, its shell ravaged by a three-shot burst of 15 mm tungsten carbine slugs accelerated at two kilometers per second. "You can't beat a tank when it comes to armored ground combat."

"We're in an IFV." corrected Taylor.

"Whatever!"

"Mako: Four! Wanzers? Zero!" Williams agreed, happily.

Vega, on the other hand, while thrilled to be alive, had to outmaneuver skating Wanzers on a wheeled vehicle on dusty terrain irrigated by lava. "Yeah, well, it was touch and go there for a second! Whew!"

"Settle down, everyone," said Anderson. "The mission's not over. Anything on the scopes, Taylor?"

"Nothing, but I'm keeping my eyes peeled."

Jondum Bau and the rest of the team had just arrived at the edge of a small prefab town. It was built around the hundred meter wide mouth of the deep pit RedWater had dug above the monolith, with the intention of extracting the artifact AND the huge battery it was attached to. Apparently, it would have revolutionized the energy industry. With such a prize at stake and with the need for secrecy, RedWater's operations on Caleston had run themselves ragged trying to undertake both the project AND maintain a steady supply of Element Zero.

Just two kilometers through the town and a long, twelve kilometer elevator ride down the planet's crust later, and Bau's mission would be nearly complete.

Anderson gave everyone their orders. "Vega, Urdnot, Taylor and I will go on foot to escort the Mako while it makes its way through the town. Williams, man the gun. Jenkins, you'll be driving - remember to keep it slow and steady. Bau, I know I can't give you orders, but..."

"I shall stay inside and operate the vehicle's sensors. I think I'll be able to spot trouble before it spots us."

"Thank you. Alright, let's get-"

The ground shook and trembled for a few seconds, then stopped.

"Aw, dammit!" cursed Jenkins. "Just what we needed, an Earthquake!"

"Sir?" interrupted Vega. "I think you should see this!"

Most of the Team stepped outside of the IFV to see with their own eyes what was happening. A beam of orange red light emanated from the center of town, and where the beam and the sky met, dark clouds gathered in a swirl. Thunder split the sky, and for the first time in an eon rain fell on the ashen plains of Caleston.

"Sweet Mother of God in Heaven..." muttered Williams. "Do you think... do you think we're too late?"

"No." said Bau as he cocked his handgun, checking the ammo block. "It is not too late to neutralize Benezia, at least."

"Everyone," commanded Anderson, "to your positions, and move out!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Holy shit." muttered Jane at the sight.

"Yeah." agreed Ryan. "No kidding."

Twelve kilometers within Caleston's crust was a empty space 3 kilometers high and 18 kilometers wide, and built on its floor was the Prothean Undercity. Evenly spaced tall pillars of white stone, engraved with bas-reliefs of mighty beasts, held the ceiling in place. A faint blue glow, emanating from a dense flora of bio-luminescent fungi formations that grew on both the ceiling and the curved walls of a dense forest of buildings of incredibly detailed architecture, reminiscent of the Śikhara style of middle-age India blended with modern Thessian. The forest's buildings got progressively taller the closer to the city's center they were, and right in the middle of the spires was the Ziggurat, where the Monolith was kept.

The Deep Eyes' breaths were taken away, their hearts overtaken with awe. While they had all traveled to different planets, exiting that elevator had felt like stepping into a completely different world.

Manah smiled a little sadly; she had hoped she would return here under better circumstances.

As for Jensen, he felt an odd sense of deja-vu that irritated the back of his head, along with a sense of loss that weighed down his heart... And he realized those were odd feelings to have, considering he had never been here before.

"This place... it's seen better days." he said.

"Yes, it did." replied Manah. "One hundred thousand years ago... and it's held up quite nicely, I think, considering its age. The Protheans were master builders. Even when they used the most primitive materials: Stone, wood... their artifices lasted far, far longer than anything we could build using modern technology. See the Ziggurat?" Manah pointed at the central building. "I guarantee you won't see a scratch on it."

"What's with the ugly looking metal cylinder on top of it." asked Ryan. "It kinda stands out..."

"That is part of the shaft RedWater dug to pull out the city's power core. The Monolith is set right on top of it."

"Why didn't they just take it out through one of the elevators?" asked Grey.

"Because it's too big." said Jensen.

"Yes, the Core is a hundred meters wide and over a kilometer long. RedWater was worried removing it would cause a surge of lava to flow out of the hole, and they thought to funnel the flow of lava to the surface and into a lake of lava through irrigation.

Grey became aghast. "Wait, we're only a kilometer away from Caleston's mantle?! This place should be hotter than an oven!"

"I feel fine," said Ryan.

"My...face isn't melting, sir." said Jane as she felt her skin beneath her Revenant tactical mask. "I think we're good."

"I cannot answer why the air of the Undercity is so cool," said Manah. "I suspect it might have to do something with the Core absorbing the heat... but that is just a theory."

"Well, it's no use speculating. Alright, everyone... we've still got six klicks to go on foot."

"It's a shame we can't keep using the Quad..." said Jane, pointing at the vehicle that had been waiting for them at the elevator. Apparently RedWater's prospectors used them to get around the Undercity through its system of obsidian roads. Many of them had fallen into disrepair, and many more were blocked by small mountains of fallen rubble.

"No complaining, soldier. We-"

The ground beneath their feet shook and trembled, and a wave of orange light burst out of the Ziggurat and washed over them harmlessly. The shaking stopped... and began shaking again more violently. The faint blue glow that illuminated the Undercity became a bright orange, and it took a moment for everyone to realize that it wasn't the fungi that had changed color.

The orange glow came from the lava swelling up behind them.

Garrus encapsulated how everyone was feeling at that particular moment with two simple words. "Oooooooh crap."

"RUN LIKE HELL!" screamed Grey.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The Black Queen drank deep from the power that bled away from the monolith, even as the Templar Sages and their underlings fled the scene. Her presence became stronger, but something felt wrong. Someone was coming, intent on stopping her... yes, she could taste their defiance in the air.

High above was an old soldier, his tired body host to a heart full of quiet rage cloaked in sorrow. He was determined to exact revenge - any kind, even the littlest morsel would do - against Saren... even if it meant the men following him were to perish.

And slightly below, and far off in the distance, was a young broken warrior, his soul filled with sorrow masked by anger, intent on proving himself and the men accompanying him worthy once again... Even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

Besides that one was Him, the one that had resisted her whispers. And besides Him was... her...

That little whore.

Uncloaking beside her were several Geth platforms, and they stood there, silently waiting for her commands. She could not use her mind to command them, and that was something she would have to correct, soon.

"There are six interlopers, several kilometers west of here. One of them is my daughter... Marshal all the platforms you can spare to capture her, and kill the rest." As she said the words aloud, the Templars patrolling the Undercity received similar mental commands.

The Geth platforms proceeded to follow her orders, and the Black Queen smiled. Soon she would have gained more power than she had ever lost. Soon, she would have that vile little monster born of the void in her grasp again, and she would make her suffer.

But what to do with the old soldier?

Ah, yes.

_**"Caim..."** _

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Caim shivered with delight. His mistress was calling him, her disembodied voice echoing in the hunger, its sound soothing the void... Yes, besides satiating his bloodlust, the Black Queen's hold over him brought him relief. It was why he had forsaken his oath as a Templar and...

 _Wait,_ he thought. _did I truly forsake my oath? When did I ever..._

And then, just like that, the hunger deepened. Had she abandoned him?

_"Fear not, my sweet Caim, I have not abandoned you... But there is blood to spill, and I want your thirst at its peak. Come! Come and slay all that wish me harm, Caim. My one, my only... my **Champion**."_

_Caim grinned from ear to ear. It was time to fetch his Angelus._

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Keep moving!" screamed Grey. "We are not out of the woods yet!"

For the members of Durendal team, running through the labyrinthine streets and walkways was difficult enough when molten rock was dogging their footsteps, but fountains of lava burst all around them on top of their troubles, warming the air to a nearly unbearable level of heat.

The six-story high stone walkway they were running on had effectively turned into a bridge that connected both sides of an incredibly wide, newly-formed river of lava.

The path crumbled at the center, blocking their way. The gap was incredibly wide, but Jensen leapt across it easily, leaving the rest of his comrades on the other side. Garrus was ready to follow his partner, not to be outdone, but Ryan grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.

"No!" he shouted. "You'll die!"

"I can make that jump, easily!" Garrus shot back.

"There's a lava flow right underneath us! The hot air will eat through your cheap Agent suit and cook you alive!"

"If we stay here we're going to cook anyways!"

Jensen deployed the Fandango blade and started slicing into one of the decorative pillars that once held up a glass roof. He cut a wedge into it, punched it off, and the pillar fell with a loud thud, bridging both sides of the gap. It was thick and wide enough to shield anyone walking onto it from the hot air, but only just.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" shouted Grey over the din of bursts of lava. "Move across it, everyone!"

"Wait!" Ryan shouted back. "It's starting to crumble, we can't go all at once!"

Grey cursed under his breath: why couldn't anything be simple? "Fine! T'soni, you're the lightest, you go first!"

Manah was hesitant to cross at first, scared out of her mind, and started walking carefully across the makeshift bridge.

"Hurry up!" urged Grey, and Manah ran, quickly understanding that if she took too long, the others would perish quickly. Adam took her hand as she neared the other side, and she crossed safely.

Jane followed suit, then Garrus, and Ryan had insisted that Grey go next, since he was lighter. Grey passed through, and he beckoned Ryan to traverse. The walkway crumbled behind him, and the large, heavy soldier ran on the crumbling span of the makeshift bridge, and the weight of his footfalls caused it to crack and break as he reached its middle. Grey and Jane screamed as he fell to his doom...

 _So this is how it ends,_ he thought, as the world slowed down around him. _Fallen into perdition's very flames. It's... proper. It's just what I deserve..._

He closed his eyes, and waited for his body to burn... and waited... and waited... and, wondering why he wasn't bathed in agonizing pain, he opened his eyes.

He was _floating._ Erratically, but floating, and he was slowly coming up.

He looked up, and got a glimpse of Manah's body flaring with dark energy that emanated from the element zero nodes in her body. She didn't reach out with mnemonics - she simply stood there, her body straight and breathless, a statue of alabaster wrapped in Saint-Elmo's flames. She was struggling: she had never manipulated anything as large or as heavy as a man before, and Ryan stalled due to her lack of training, his body aloft over the intense heat of the lava. She needed to hurry, or else he would be roasted alive.

 _"Take a deep breath."_ said Shadow at her side, his hand on her shoulder _..._ but his voice sounded...different. _"The dark flow of Starfire is more than just a field, it is your hand. Feel his mass as you would holding a stone, touching it, feeling its weight in your palm..."_

His words took root in her mind, and before long she could _feel_ Ryan, somehow... and it made it easier to keep him steady and pull him up. Shadow left her side and, along with Garrus reached out for the large Terran soldier to pull him up, and she gasped, trying to recover her lost stamina. She had never, ever used her biotics for so long before, and her inefficient biotic skills burned her out.

Now that Ryan's feet were on solid ground. he let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks; you three are God's own angels," he said to the Cyborg, the Turian and the Asari.

The other side of the walkway crumbled completely. "No time for that, keep moving!"

Just as they were about to reach the end of the walkway, it crumbled in front of them again, and just behind them as well. The six of them now stood on a platform held up by a rapidly melting pillar, and the whole thing was starting to wobble in the directions of a lake of fire and a small building some thirteen meters away.

"Everyone on the left!" shouted Grey. "We need to make this thing fall near that roof!"

"It's gonna be a rough landing!" said Garrus as he carried out Grey's order.

"It's better than the lava!"

"Not really arguing that, sir!"

The platform eventually lost all balance, and fell towards the building.

"Everyone, get ready to jump!"

"I-I-I..." Manah stuttered in terror. She didn't know if her bones could handle that landing. "I don't know if I-eek!"

Jensen picked her up a bridal carry as the platform started to fall, and on Grey's signal everyone leapt. He quickly overrode his Icarus Landing System and switched it on, intent on softening the landing to spare Manah's relatively fragile bones. They were both wrapped in a powerful golden electromagnetic field, and Manah gasped as the energy interacted with her nodes, causing them to flare and burst in a wide mass lightening field that wrapped the whole Durendal team. They all landed softly on the roof of the building, shocked at their suddenly lightened weight. They looked at their bodies, wrapped in blue energy, almost fascinated by the experience... well, almost everyone: Garrus had acquired a distaste with being tossed around by Biotics.

"Everyone alright?"

"Yeah..." said Ryan, his breath short. "We just need to catch our breaths."

Jane, doubled over and gasping, agreed. "We've been sprinting for over a kilometer and then some, sir. I think we're safe from the lava here."

"Take ten, everyone... or as long as this building doesn't collapse. Shadow? Didn't know that Icarus Landing System of yours could extend that far."

"It doesn't." Jensen replied as he set Manah down.

"I think that was me..." said Manah.

"Is that right?" Grey smiled, approving. "Well, seeing as you spared us quite a few broken bones... thank you, Ms. T'soni." It occurred to him then that maybe the United States military should look into investing in Biotics. The Alliance Navy certainly wasn't shy about it, and now he could see why.

"Oh, that's not..." her stomach gurgled, interrupting her attempt at modesty. She held her stomach with both hands, trying to quiet it down. "Oooh..."

"Are you... hungry? You just ate a whole daily ration not even an hour ago..."

Garrus explained on her behalf. "Biotics have an increased metabolism, and they need a hell of a lot more calories to burn."

"And she is pretty thin and small." noted Jensen.

"Right, not enough fat to burn. Here..." he withdrew a bar of flavorless concentrated protein and tried handing it to her, but recalled what Jensen said about her condition, and handed it to him instead. "...I don't need it."

"Oh, thank you..." Manah bowed with her hands in front of her, showing her gratitude.

"Hey! Is it just me, or is it getting dark now?" said Jane after a few minutes of rest.

Everyone looked up and around, and indeed, the Undercity returned to its dark blue glow, although many of the tall spires were lit from below by a dim and hellish orange-red light from below. The lava had cooled into magma, and the air became lukewarm.

"Well, that's one less problem. Is everyone rested?"

"I'm good to go, sir." confirmed Ryan.

"Ditto." said Jane. Garrus simply nodded, as did Jensen. Manah, unable to complain about her state, simply nodded as well.

"Alright then, we're moving out. Let's try and stay as far away from the ground level as possible. It's cooler now, but it's still pretty damned hot down there."

...

The large circular room they had arrived to was part of some kind of temple... or maybe a mausoleum, Grey had no idea. As for Jane, she was reminded of one of the many rooms of the St-Joseph's Oratory back home in Montreal, or its basilica as she recalled it, only with more of a hindu feel to it, and more bas-relief murals. The dome-shaped roof was separated into eight overlapping petals, and Jane figured they opened up to let the glow in or something.

"Do you..." Manah took a breath. "Do you still have those coins? I only need one - a charged one."

Jane shook her head. "Hm? Oh, sure. She took one out of her leg pack and dropped it into Manah's waiting hands. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with it, however. When Manah slotted it in an indentation on the wall and the place became illuminated, she remembered.

"Oh, right. Battery coin." Jane sighed. "Well, there goes ten thousand platinum."

"You still got six, Jane," reminded Ryan. "Besides, you were probably going to spend all that coin on Quasar. Might as well use those Prothean, err...Marquis?"

"Macca."

"Right, Macca for something worthwhile, like getting us away from here. Place gives me the willies with that blue gloom all over the place."

Garrus snorted. "I prefer 'blue gloom' to 'red hot lava', but hey, I'm just picky that way."

Jane chuckled at that. "So, what are you using my coin for anyways, T'soni?"

Manah knelt in the center of a black stone circle, seven meters wide. It was, strangely enough, blank, and it stood out from the extremely detailed and decorated walls.

"I'm trying to activate this platform. It should be able to take us to the Ziggurat safely... or at least with little risk of us falling into magma."

"... I don't see any controls there, T'soni." commented Grey, skeptically.

"Well, that's because..." she put her hands on the circle, but nothing happened. "That's because... I... oh, curses! It's not working!"

Jensen stepped on the circle to see if he could help at all, and just then the circle generated a complex holographic mandala that glowed teal, with a complex yellow green sphere of interlocking parts in the center. Manah was joyous. "There! These are the controls for the floating platform!"

"Good, then take us out of here." commanded Grey.

"I-I need some time to solve this security puzzle, first..." said Manah as she grabbed the sphere. "I've solved things like these before in... in my spare time, this might take a few minutes."

"As long as it's not an hour." said Grey.

"Oh! It won't!... It might be a third of an hour, though." Manah manipulated the sphere, trying to figure out which pattern she had memorized would work on solving it.

"Great, gotta wait on the egghead figuring out an ancient Prothean video-game. Sir? Can I just say that I didn't sign up for any of this Indiana Jones crap? I'd rather be shooting shit."

Just as she said that, the Geth hoppers that had been stalking them sprang into action, and Templar soldiers burst into the room.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Hah! I am loving this shit!" shouted Wrex as his 300M Shotgun's slug tore its way into a Geth Juggernaut's main power core. It fell like a rag doll, and Wrex propped it up with his Biotics and threw it into a fire team of Geth wielding rocket launchers. Jacob detonated its residual dark energy field, causing an explosion of blue light that engulfed all four Geth within it.

This. This is what he loved. He hadn't been in a fight that good in a long while. He hadn't been part of a team worth a damn in a long while either, not since the good old days with Aleena. Vega proved to be handy with a GEP gun, Taylor proved to be very good at using combined Biotic techniques, and Anderson was a killer with an LMG, firing tight streams of high-velocity metal steadily and on target. The power-suit helped with that, of course, but old warriors needed every advantage to keep up in a young man's game.

Also: they had a tank. Having one on your side was always a good thing.

Wrex thought that maybe he should offer his services to Spectres more often. An Asari one, maybe, or a human should the Council ever make up their minds.

"Die, Alien scum!" screamed a charging power-armored Templar wielding a huge, two-handed melee weapon. Wrex did a quick double take at that one.

 _Wait, is that a rocket-powered axe?_ he thought. _Are you serious?_

"Die, idiot." Wrex replied coolly as he leveled his shotgun at the Templar's face and fired off another shot. The human's kinetic shields proved to be far more resilient than anticipated, and by the time the ammo shaver had put another round in the firing chamber, the Templar had come close enough to take a swing. Wrex attempted to block with his weapon, but wound up destroying it. The Templar swung again, and this time Wrex caught the axe's haft with his bare hands, dropping the ruined shotgun in the process. To his surprise, the human and he were evenly matched in strength.

Before he could take advantage of his weight to wrestle the uppity human to the ground, Anderson fired a burst from his light machine gun into the Templar's armored head. The bullets ricocheted inside, shredding his brains, and he fell over dead, leaving Wrex with a new weapon.

"Quit screwing around!" shouted Anderson. Lightning from the storm came down and struck a Geth Juggernaut standing on a rooftop, and the Captain ordered Vega to blow it up while its shields and actuators were completely scrambled.

"And again!" shouted Vega as the Geth platform exploded into shrapnel and liquid. "Is it just me, or are the Geth lightning bait? This is the seventh time I see them getting struck by it!"

 _"I like to think God's watching over us from on high,"_ quipped Williams over the TAC-Com.

_"Four incoming Geth stealth assault platforms from the north!" shouted Bau over the radio. "Marking them on your HUDs!"_

"I got'em." said Wrex as his Biotics flared and he Charged at the four icons in his helmet's Tactical HUD. The lead Geth he slammed into flew off and crashed into a prefab house. He took one swing with his newfound melee weapon and the other three large machines were torn by the axe's head, propelled by micro-plasma jets, which also sent their mechanical guts flying around in a splatter of silver white blood. One of them survived and lamely crawled away, so Wrex drew out his new Executioner pistol and fired a slug straight into the synthetic's power core, finishing it off for good.

Wrex had to admit, using a huge melee weapon in a firefight might not have been smart, but it was certainly _fun._

Too bad the fight was pretty much over: Ashley fired off a burst from the Mako II's cannon, and the Armature that had been harassing them with those damned slow moving balls of explosive dark energy went down.

_"No more contacts on the scopes." radioed Bau._

_"Everyone, back in formation."_ ordered Anderson. _"We're just 3 minutes away from the pit."_

_"Hold on, there's a reason why I had us take this route. Mister Jenkins, stop the IFV."_

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Take your time, Bau." said Anderson sarcastically, "It's not like Benezia just activated an ancient Prothean artifact of unimaginable power."

"Your men have been fighting non-stop for close to an hour." he said as he rummaged through T'soni's things, his Venom shotgun hanging from a strap around his shoulder. "They could use some rest before we make our way down into the RedWater pit. Perfect opportunity for me to gather some intel."

Vega didn't want to contradict Anderson, but he silently agreed with the Spectre. Gene-mods or no, they were still human in the end. And waiting on a Spectre was a welcome change of pace from going from one chest-high wall to the next while Anderson kept the enemy suppressed. An hour of that got a bit boring fast.

Manah T'soni's lodgings (a thirty-six square meter room encased in thin metal walls) were pretty spartan, with only a few workdesks and a bed for furniture. And judging by the three cots on the floor she was forced to bunk with three others. That must have sucked.

He sat down a plastic chair near a desk, took off his helmet (it was hard to breathe in those things, sometimes) and caught sight of an e-book. With nothing much to do until Bau found what he was looking for or the Geth attacked again, he read it.

It was an article on, of all things: Adam Jensen. The pad was full of them, dated around seven years ago. The first one was titled 'Pre-Collapse cyborg awakens from cryo sleep and escapes Europa laboratory'.

"Huh."

"What is it? asked Williams. She was going through T'soni's trash bin, but all she founds were the burnt remains of a book.

"Apparently T'soni had an interest in everyone's favorite Augmented Popsicle, our boy Adam Jensen."

Williams narrowed her eyes. "You don't say."

"Yeah, she's collected quite a few extra-net articles on the guy... makes sense, seeing as he's from a time gone by and she's an archeologist."

"Hmph."

"You... don't sound like you approve."

She laughed, disingenuously. "Hey, if the alien wants to get her rocks off to a machine, she's welcome to it."

"Do you mind keeping that, Mister Vega?" asked the Spectre. "Might be valuable...Ah! Found something! T'soni's audio log... or so I hope."

He played the first entry, and a harsh woman's voice spoke from the tiny speaker. _"This is Justicar Custodian Circe. I hereby permit my charge, Manah T'soni, to make use of this device as a log of all she finds here on Caleston, with the understanding that everything recorded within it becomes the property of the Justicar Order. Do you understand, T'soni?"_

_Another voice, soft and young, answered: "...Yes, I understand completely."_

_"Then speak."_

_"Very well...Entry 1: I've already inspected Dr Lanteia's research notes and I've already identified their main problem. They assumed the Undercity was built in the 87th Era, due to it's architecture. The murals, however, are obviously done in the bas-relief style of the 107th Era and-"_

Bau skipped to the latest entry. _"Entry 31... The foreman gave us the new code to the express elevator. Shouldn't be too hard to remember... four, five, zero, one, one, zero, five, four... and there. Memorized. Oh... Oh no! I probably shouldn't have said it aloud... h-how do you erase entries on this thing? Circe is going to be so mad..."_

Bau smiled. "There you have it, this should make our trip down the pit a bit faster."

From the audio-log came three knocks on a pane of glass. _"What? Who could... Noel? What are you doing here?"_

 _"Hey, I wanted to see you again! Is this a bad time?"_ The voice was male, young, probably in his late teens.

_"No, but- Hey! don't come in here!"_

_"Why? Are the scary ladies in red around?"_

_"They're right outside!"_

_"Then we'll have to be very very quiet, then. I came to give you this."_

_"Fine, but you have to... oh, i-is that a book?"_

_"Yeah, you said you loved storybooks, and I managed to dig this out of our attic. My mom used to read this to me. It's called The Little Prince."_

_"Oh, thank you...but, I can't take it. I can't have anything of my own! Please, I beg you, you must forget about me and stop..."_

_"But, I want you to have it!..."_

_"NO! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"_

_"What is going on here!?" shouted Circe. "Who are you, alien?!"_

_"Uh oh, gotta bail!" quipped Noel. "See ya!"_

_"Run, Noel!"_

_"You, catch him!" ordered Circe ordered._

_"I'd like to see you try!" Noel's laugh became distant, and another woman cursed in frustration in an untranslatable language._

_"Please, he's just a boy!"_

_**"O Geis, phionósú an gceann seo -"** _

_"No..."_

_**"- agus a dheonú ar an leibhéal seachtú fulaingt aici!"** _

Williams' eyes widened "What _was_ that? Freakin' _Voodoo?_ "

Jondum Bau put his finger on his lip, silently asking her to be quiet.

_T'soni screamed horribly, then whimpered, and choked back tears. "I-I'm sorry... please make it stop!"_

_"...It gives me no pleasure to do this, Creature. But pain is the only way to stop your evil nature from coming to the fore... You seduced that boy, I could see it in his eyes."_

_"N-no... we just... spoke..."_

_"And now we must find him and save him from your dark influence, as the Sutras ordain. His death, and any death that follow, will be on your head, not ours. Stay here, Creature, and dwell on that fact as the Geis does its work."_

Anderson, Vega and Williams said nothing as Bau switched off the recording of Manah's sobs and pocketed it. Williams glanced at the trash bin, thinking about that book. It was Vega that broke the heavy silence.

"Jeez, talk about overreacting... What the hell was that all about? Some kid wants to give a girl a present and they try and kill him? And torture a girl for turning heads... This is all kinds of fucked up."

"And here I thought the Asari were so very enlightened," said Williams scornfully. "I don't know who the fuck those Justicars are..." Her mind dwelled on her younger sisters, and she imagined someone doing that to them. "...but if I ever meet one she's getting a face full of buckshot. Mark my words."

"...Let's just get out of here." said Anderson. "We've wasted enough time as it is. Move out, Marines."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

As the Normandy team arrived at the metal edge of the dig site, Anderson looked down, careful not to fall in the twelve kilometer drop. Apparently, RedWater thought that guardrails were an unacceptable luxury. He turned back to his men, save for Jenkins, who was tasked with staying with the Mako. Up above the storm raged on, and its interference prevented communication with the Normandy. _Damn that storm,_ Anderson thought.

"Well," said Bau. "How shall we proceed, Captain?"

"We could take the elevator," suggested Wrex. "We've got the code, after all, but the Geth and the Templars might be in full control of it, and if not they'll definitely be waiting for us at the bottom, or will have trapped it."

"We could jump in with the Mako, sir." suggested Vega. "It was made to handle orbital drops, after all."

It took a few seconds for Anderson to make his decision, but before he could say anything, the sound of high-powered thrusters rumbled through the stormy sky, and out of nowhere fell a heavy red Wanzer, with huge vernier thrusters mounted on its back and a huge clod of sharpened metal in its hand. It swung at the Mako, and it flew off and crashed into a nearby construction crane. The Red Wanzer opened it's mouth, and a globe of hot plasma gathered inside of it.

Caim had arrived.

 _ **"Come, Alliance dogs."**_ said the fearsome Wanzer's pilot. **" _Show me what the so-called guardians of humanity can do... for I long for good sport..."_**

Anderson had only one thing to say: "To the elevator! NOW!"

And from its mouth the Red Wanzer unleashed hell upon them all.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"You wanted something to shoot, Spirit?" shouted Ryan as he fired his M-358 Talon pistol into a Geth hopper's face. His Omni-Shield held fast against the bursts of warp ammo the Geth soldier's pulse rifles spat out, but only because he kept tapping into his Omni-Gel reserves to repair the damage. "Well, there you go! Go nuts!"

"I would!" shouted Jane over the din of gunfire. "But those bastards Sabotaged my Vector! All I've got is my sidearm!"

A Templar Sniper's head exploded, and Garrus whooped victoriously as he loaded another chemical round into the Greatsword. "Thank you for standing still, idiot! That's twelve! How many did you get, Grey?"

"If Zorah's correct..." He fired a charged shot into the chest of the Juggernaut coordinating the Geth's efforts, and its torso melted into slag. "I'd say about two thousand! T'soni! How's that puzzle coming along?"

"I-I'm almost- AH!"

A Geth Hopper leaped at Manah, and Jensen caught it by the throat before it could reach her. He wrestled it to the ground and buried his suit's plasma claws into its chest, ripping out a cord with glowing blue power cells plugged into it like bulbs of garlic on a string and promptly discarded it. Manah tried to keep her hands steady: she had never solved a Prothean geometrical puzzle while under attack by _robots_ before.

"Just a few more moves and... Done!" She pushed and buried the glowing sphere into the center of the Mandala, and set a course for the Ziggurat. "Everyone, get on!"

The stone petals above opened, and the platform rose slowly. Jane and Ryan, who had been outside of it, had to jump and mantle themselves onto the floating piece of rock. Garrus and Jensen helped them up while Grey rained down covering fire.

"Gee, Thanks for you waiting for us, _T'soni_." said Jane, a little peeved.

"...Err, you are welcome?"

"I was being _sarcastic_."

"Oh. Oh! I'm sorry, but I panicked and..."

"No harm done," said Ryan. "We're out of that hell hole, and that's what matters. Thank you, T'soni."

"...Are you being sarcastic?"

Ryan laughed. "No, no, I mean it."

"Three Seraphs, incoming!" shouted Jensen as he pulled out his revolver. He fanned the hammer, firing a quick six round burst at the two flying Templars, but their barriers held. Garrus managed to shoot one out of the sky by hitting him in the verniers, but the other two managed to rise above the floating platform. One of them aimed a grenade launcher at the Durendal team and fired.

For Adam, time slowed down as the Quicksilver kicked in. He drew out the Carnifex he picked up earlier and fired a round into the explosive slug just as it left the wide barrel. The grenade, filled with White-Phosphorus, exploded in a ball of white gas, consuming the flying grenadier, who went down screaming. The last remaining Seraph roared, intent on avenging his fallen comrade. He flew in and rammed Jensen with his body, wrestling him down on the platform, straddling him. Jane attempted to bury her hatchet in his face, but the Templar shoved her off. Before Jensen could shove the Fandago in the Seraph's belly, the Templar's head fell off, and the body slumped over like a puppet with its strings cut off. Garrus stood over them both, the Longinus in sword mode in hand.

"You could have just shot him." said Jensen as he pushed the body off. "But thanks."

"I only have so many shots." He held out his hand and helped Jensen get up. "Say what you want about those sword-guns of theirs, they do save ammo in a pinch. And you're welcome."

The platform had risen twelve stories above the ground and floated towards the Ziggurat, Grey had everyone double check their weapons. He swapped out his Serpent's empty power-cell for a full one, while Jane set about fixing her Vector. Ryan, curious about the workings of the platform, decided to take a scan of it.

"Huh."

"What is it?" asked Grey.

"I'm not getting any Element Zero readings from this thing. How does it float?"

Everyone turned to Manah, who became flustered at the sudden attention. "I do not know," she said. "I am an expert on their history, not their science."

Grey shrugged. "Well, as long as it works and gets us where we're supposed to go."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The floating platform settled inside a half-circle cut into a raised rostrum, meant to serve as a dock. The entrance to the Ziggurat was just a long staircase away, and welcoming the Deep Eyes were huge metal double doors made out of some kind of bronze, both four stories tall. They had been molded with the bas-relief of twin blacksmiths hammering a sword on an anvil, while seven thunderbolts struck it from above.

"Kind of old fashioned, these Protheans." commented Grey. "T'soni, any ideas as to how to get this door open? I don't want to have to walk three kilometers around this thing just to find another way in."

"We could just knock?" quipped Garrus.

"Quiet, Vakarian. T'soni?"

"There should be emergency switches on each side of the doors," said Jensen. The Deep Eyes and Manah glared at him curiously. "Well, it seems logical."

"...There are." agreed Manah.

"I don't see them." said Jane as she looked at the sides of the doors.

"Look up."

"Aw, crap. All the way up there, huh?"

"I am afraid so."

"Spirit, Shadow, you're both good at climbing things." said Grey. "Get up there."

Adam and Jane proceeded to climb the walls on each side of the door, the complex detailing providing plenty of good gripping points for a climb. Jane had tried to make a race out of it, but thought better to challenge a cyborg in a power suit to anything remotely physical.

"C-Careful!" Manah shouted from below, worried that they would fall and hurt themselves.

"We'll be fine!" reassured Jane. "We're up to the levers. Now what?"

"You will have to pull the cylinders, rotate them clockwise, and push them back in simultaneously."

It took a bit longer for Jane to pull the cylinder, and she had to put her whole body into it. "On three, we push!" she commanded. "One, two..."

They pushed the cylinders in, causing the emergency hydraulics to make the doors open out. Waiting on the other side was a mob of dead people, shambling, staying upright by the virtue of cables and implants that glowed a sickly blue. Their eyes and eyelids had been scorched away, replaced by metallic orbs. Their gaping, gurgling distented mouths were filled with cables that connected to various points in their chests. Manah screamed, having never seen such horrible creatures before. They charged out of the gate, their arms outstretched and grasping for anything living to squeeze the life out of.

Grey, Garrus and Ryan opened fire into the small mob immediately, stemming the tide of bodies by shooting them in the legs, making the creatures fall over each other. Jensen jumped from the switch to the top of the door, then leapt down into the mob. His Icarus landing system activated, but he overrode it and funneled the EM field into his fist. A burst of kinetic energy announced his landing, and the living corpses were scattered all over, their bodies broken. The few that survived the blast were easily finished off.

"What the hell are those?!" asked Jane as she fired a burst into the skull of the last cyborg zombie.

"Husks." said Grey. "Hein briefed us about them, remember?"

"Right, but those were naked, these..."

"...Were once RedWater workers." said Garrus, pointing at their clothes. "And by the look of those ones over there, Templar scientists."

Jensen stood over the broken, desiccated bodies, and Garrus picked up on that. "Err... anybody you knew in there?"

...

_"There has to be a way to help these people!"_

_"Yeah. You give them the mercy of a bullet to the head!"_

_..._

"...No." Adam replied.

"Then why are you staring?"

"It's just..." Adam shook his head. "No, it's nothing."

Garrus knew better than to pry, and left it alone.

"I think Benezia's running out of options: she's scraping the bottom of the barrel, now." Grey said confidently.

A gust of wind rushed out of the door, and the evil laughter of a woman echoed. Manah whimpered at the sound.

"...Yeah. Let's not kid ourselves." said Garrus. "She sent out these... things to screw with our heads."

"Load some fresh ammo blocks in your weapons, everyone... because this is it, the last stretch: third of a klick to the artifact. Shadow? Paladin?"

"Sir?" answered Ryan.

"You two take point."

The Durendal team crossed the threshold of the gates, and the doors closed behind them. There was no turning back now.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The elevator's doors opened, and out came a crowd of Husks, as Shepard described them to Anderson... only fully clothed. Wrex, Bau and Anderson gunned them down, and they were forced to clear out some of the bodies to make room. That took time, precious time that Jenkins was buying them by the skin of his teeth.

The Mako II had, amazingly, survived the Wanzer's initial attack and landed on its wheels, so Jenkins had switched the controls to single pilot mode and began a furious counter-attack. Right now he was harassing the _Wyvern_ with both Auto-cannon and heavy machine gun fire that simply wouldn't breach its impressive kinetic shields. The Mako dodged and weaved through the makeshift roads of the settlement as the red giant destroyed every single prefab Jenkins could use as cover.

_"Yeah, come on! Eat Tungsten, you prick!"_

As Wrex cleared the last of the bodies out of the elevator. Williams activated her suit radio. "Jenkins, come on! The elevator's up!"

"Belay that." said Anderson, his voice cold.

Williams looked at Anderson in horror. "...S-sir?"

"Vega, Taylor, get in the elevator... Jenkins, keep harassing the Wanzer, buy us some time."

_"I... I understand, sir. You make Benezia pay for her part in Eden Prime, sir!"_

"We will, son. Mark my words, We will."

"Sir!" protested Vega. "I'm trained in anti-armor tactics! I can help him!"

Anderson entrained the notion for half a second before dismissing it: That Wanzer was simply too powerful and attempting to destroy it on foot was suicide. He had done the math. The mission came first. He needed to put as much distance between the giant machine and his team, or they would die and the mission would be a failure.

And Saren would win. The thought alone set Anderson's heart on fire.

"That thing is a monster! You're no match for it, none of us are! Get in the elevator, Marine. That's an order!"

"But..."

"GET IN THE ELEVATOR NOW!" Anderson roared. Vega was taken aback by the glare of his red optical sensors, and he obeyed.

No one said anything as the mag-rail elevator accelerated down into the depths of Caleston, and Jenkins' radio transmissions became more and more scrambled with static.

_"Come on!... I'm ... over here!... try ...catch...argh!...all... got?..."_

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Spirit? Spirit, where are you?" Grey called out to her, but got no response.

The Durendal Team had come across another locked door, and T'soni got to work on unlocking it. He had just ordered everyone to keep the area secured when he realized that she had gone missing. How could he have been that unobservant? He chided himself mentally at his failure. He tried contacting her on the radio, but it was no use.

"Vakarian, you were with her just a moment ago! Did you see her leave?"

"I was a little too busy scanning the area for Husks... like you ordered me to."

He was right, of course. In the tall and wide main hall they had seen more of these impalement spikes the Geth used to create Husks, and they had counted far more of those than the number in the mob that greeted them at the entrance. The thought that Jane had been killed by one of these things - or worse been turned into one of them - horrified him.

"She always too stealthy for her own good." said Ryan. "Shall we look for her?"

"Do we really have time for that? Benezia's doing spirits knows what to that artifact, and the ground's starting to rumble again. This building is huge, if we get sidetracked..."

Grey grabbed him by the collar and glared at him with his glowing blue optics. His voice was low. "I don't care if the whole galaxy _burns_. I'm not leaving any of my soldiers behind, under any circumstances."

"I'll go find her." said Jensen, defusing the situation. "I've got an advanced sensor suite: I can cover more ground."

"Do it." commanded Grey.

"Grey, if I find her dead... What do you want me to do?"

"... then bring me her dogtags."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Jane tried to tell herself that it wasn't possible. But she saw what she saw, and she needed to be sure. She had skulked off when no one was looking, just to check it out, and then she'd come right back, or so she told herself a dozen times over.

The dark, silent rooms of the Ziggurat hadn't quite been what she expected: she had thought that this was someone's palace, but after seeing the various primitive tools on the tables and diagrams on the walls, Jane decided that this place looked more like one big workshop. Or even a school.

And somewhere within these walls, Tiffany was around here somewhere. But Tiffany had died on Mars... That didn't stop Jane from catching a glimpse of her pale skin and long dark hair. And after a few more minutes of wandering, she caught another glimpse of her going down that hall. She followed her there, but it led to a dead end.

She heard the sound of bare feet hitting the stone floor, and she turned around, knife and hatchet in-

...Where were her hatchets? She thought she had them, but-

"Jane..." whispered the curvaceous, yet powerful figure in front of her. She was nude, pale like the moon and covered in splatters of dark, dry blood. Her eyes were as black as her hair... but it was her. And while the vision should have brought Jane such joy, it was terror that gripped her heart, and the strength left her limbs.

"T...Tiffany?..."

"Yes... it's me..."

"No. No no no no... I saw..." Jane whimpered, "I saw you die!"

"Shhhh, it's okay..." Tiffany slowly approached.

"Get away from me!..."

"I forgive you..."

"Stay back!"

"I forgive you for leaving be behind."

Tiffany took a step forward.

"I forgive you for moving on..."

Tiffany took a step forward...

"But what I can't forgive..."

Tiffany took another step, and the skin on her arms melted to reveal bones of black metal, wrapped in barbed wire as her face contorted and twisted with pure rage.

 _**"...is** _ **you** **_suffering that_ machine _to LIVE!"_**

Tiffany grabbed Jane by the throat and forced her on her knees, and the soldier could feel her claws sinking slowly into her neck seal.

_**"Did you like what you see, as rivulets of water caressed the black plastic carved into his flesh?! Did you forget what his kind did to me, after they tore me out of my Wanzer?! Or did you look away, even as you played dead while they ravaged my body and soul?!"** _

"I..." Jane choked. "I would never forget..."

_**"So claim your revenge for my sake and kill him!"** _

"...Blind revenge is for fools... Tiffany... I loved you...more than you know..." Jane's eyes bled out the tears she thought would be her last "...but I won't murder for you."

A moment of silence passed before the ghostly apparition spoke again with a voice boiling over with venom. _**"Then DIE, you filthy little DYKE."**_

Tiffany squeezed a bit harder, and Jane's sight went black...

 _Bang_.

The Husk's head exploded, and he slumped forward, then fell by Jane's side. She massaged her neck as she gasped for air. Jensen knelt beside her to see if she was okay, his revolver still smoking at the barrel.

"Jane?"

"Jensen?" W-what happened? How did I even get here? How did you find me?"

"You were letting a Husk strangle you." he pointed at the fallen Husk, wearing a Templar's lab coat. "You wandered off, and I found you by following the trail of weapons you left behind. Here they are."

Jensen handed Jane's weapons back and she re-equipped them.

"Who's Tiffany?"

"Who?"

"Tiffany; you called that Husk by that name."

"...It's... it's personal. You don't talk about Elysium? I don't talk about Mars...but, one of its ghosts reappeared before me."

"...Fair enough. He tapped the side of his helmet, contacting the rest of the Deep Eyes. "Grey? Jane's fine... but I think Benezia tried to pull a mind-screw on her."

_"Oh, thank god she's alright. Get back here! T'soni's almost got this thing... Paladin? PALADIN, STOP!"_

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

_"Welcome to Hell, Ryan..."_ whispered the Black Queen, unseen, into Grey's soul.

He was back home, the ground burnt to cinders as an inferno blazed around him. Embers hung in the wait, blown by the hot air. And there were the children. Children on fire. Even as the flesh melted off the bones of their tiny bodies, their hate, that terrifying hate kept them running, and they were intent of sharing their agony with him.

 _"They've been waiting for YOU... won't you give them a warm embrace?"_ _she laughed cruelly._

Ryan fired his Talon wildly, terrified out of his mind. The burning, hateful children vanished into ash as he hit them, but their damning howls remained, echoing in his mind.

_**"YOU did this to us!"** _

"I tried to stop it!"

_Snap out of it marine_

_**"The weapon was in your hands!"** _

"I... I had no choice."

_It's not real_

_**"We were your brothers and you made us burn!"** _

"They... they..."

_She's messing with your mind pull yourself together_

Ryan fell on his knees, and let the children embrace him in the flames. The pain was unimaginable.

He put his hands together.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake... Yea... Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."

It was getting hotter.

"...I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. T-Thou, preparest a... table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with...oil; m-my...my..."

_"Your words are empty of belief and power. Did you think prayer would free you from your guilt? From me? Abandon all hope... Oathbreaker... Murderer. There is no forgiveness in the heart of a dead god for the likes of **YOU.** "_

"I have... never prayed for myself... but for the grace of the souls I have sent to hell... You have... no power over me, demon."

_**"Wrong."** _

The flames intensified, and Ryan lost all hope. But then, even as his eyes melted from the heat, Ryan caught a glimpse of a robed figure striding towards him, with teal and green lights hovering around it. The man stood within the inferno untouched by the flames, and perhaps, Ryan thought, the angels had seen fit to save him after all.

And then the figure struck him in the face.

...

"Snap out of it!" shouted Jensen as he shook Ryan by the shoulders.

"What?" muttered Ryan confused. He looked around, and he was back in the Ziggurat, only there were clusters of holes all over the walls. "The flames! The flames! Where are they?"

"There are no flames! Benezia's messing with your head!"

"I... I knew, and yet... Oh god..."

"Was it Mars?" asked Jane.

"...No. Not Mars. Something else. I... I think I'll be okay, now."

"Will you?" asked Grey.

"...For now, yeah. I'm sorry sir. I lost control."

Grey put a hand on his shoulder. "We weren't trained for this, don't blame yourself. T'soni!"

Manah peeked out of a pillar. "I-is it over?"

"...Yeah. Just finish unlocking that door..." When Jensen had returned from the Alienage spewing nonsense about Benezia being some of kind of super-psionic capable of whipping up a whole crowd into a crazed frenzy, he had been skeptical. But then Jane supported that statement, and T'soni confirmed it... but even then there was a shadow of a doubt. Not anymore.

"I have a few choice words to say to your mother, if you don't mind."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

As they came out of the elevator into the last stretch of the Pit's spiral staircase, Ashley shot Wrex in the back, then Vega's. Then she aimed her shotgun at Anderson's head and screamed.

_**"My family has served the Alliance for generations with loyalty and valor and all YOU DO IS SPIT ON OUR NAME!"** _

She pulled the trigger, but she had already been Thrown back into the elevator by Wrex's biotics and the shot went wide.

"You shot me in the back, you bitch!" he roared. To his surprise, she was conscious, even though she left a dent in the elevator's metal cage.

 _ **"Will you sic me onto danger like a dog while you flee?!"**_ her eyes glowed a sickly purple and crimson. ** _"Is that what awaits me in the end?!"_**

Bau silently fired a Neural Shock dart into her neck, and she went limp like a rag doll. Taylor checked up on Vega. His Defender had absorbed the impact, and he managed to get back up with some help, wincing in pain.

"Man, that stung like a motherf-"

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't crush that bitch's head with my boot!" screamed Wrex, livid at being shot by friendly fire.

"It's Benezia!" answered Bau. "The Prothean artifact is no doubt amplifying her melding abilities, somehow! We cannot delay any further!"

"Don't give me any of that space magic garbage!"

"What possible reason could Williams have to murder you, Vega and _Anderson_ of all people? Only Benezia stands to benefit from us turning on another. You should stay focused on the task at hand." Bau was careful to word his command as a suggestion - It was never wise for a Salarian to be too authoritative with a Krogan.

"...Fine." said Wrex as he backed off. "But just so you know, I'm getting paid double on account of the dents on my back! So what do we do with her? I'm not carrying her backstabbing, deadweight ass!"

"None of us can." said Anderson. "Taylor, tie her up and make sure she doesn't hurt herself when she wakes up."

"We're... leaving her behind? Sir, if there are any more of those Husks out there..."

Anderson was starting to get a little fed up with justifying his orders to his subordinates.

"We can't face Benezia and worry about her at the same time, _Lieutenant._ "

"I... understood, sir. I'll lock her in the cage while I'm at it." Taylor silently flash-cuffed Williams and closed the door.

"And then there were five." quipped Vega, darkly.

Anderson ignored him. As he started the descent down to the source of the beam, Benezia's dark influence began to dig into his mind. He didn't know it, but he kept her at bay by focusing on his hatred: He would make Benezia pay for her part in Eden Prime, and once he was done with her he would make Saren pay for his. He would pay for Camala, and he would pay for Shepard. He was convinced Saren had a part in her death, regardless of the obfuscating fog that surrounded the facts behind it. He was certain of it.

...He was certain of it. Saren had to be guilty. He had to be.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The Mako II was done. Finished. The Red Wanzer was done toying around with Jenkins, and had unleashed a payload of sixty micro-missiles from its shoulders. Jenkins hadn't veered in time, and the Mako's shields were overwhelmed. One of the missiles exploded beneath the IFV, sending it flying into a nearby prefab.

Jenkins pulled himself from the wreck. His right side hurt like hell: he felt as though his ribs were broken and were poking at his lungs. His suit's VI confirmed the damage. If only he could get some Medi-Gel in there, but his Onyx mk II wasn't equipped with a First Aid system let alone gel conduits. On top of all his troubles, his helmet's visor was cracked, marring his vision.

As he removed his helmet, he heard the hiss of a Wanzer's cockpit opening, and the loud thud of a man landing on his feet. He turned to find the Wanzer pilot confidently walking up to him, his power-suit's chest deprived of all armor plating save for the gauntlets and the disc-shaped cowters, the CNT cables exposed. Jenkins couldn't believe his luck: The Templar was intent on finishing him off personally, and with a sword, no less. It was a huge sword, but Jenkins had a gun.

_I just might come out of this in one piece._

The Alliance soldier withdrew his Predator sidearm, switched on the laser sight, took aim at the Templar's head, and pulled the trigger three times.

And each time, the Templar blocked the shot with his wide, curved blade.

Jenkins fired again and again, but the pilot's honed reflexes (aided by Jenkins' own mistake in declaring his shots with a laser beam) prevented each shot from finding their mark. The pilot laughed cruelly, and strode even faster towards the young soldier.

After twelve shots, the gun went into cooldown, and Jenkins attempted to insert a rod of coolant into the overheated weapon, but then pain shot up his arm, and he looked at the smoking stump of his left hand in shock - The pilot had been so fast...

Jenkins screamed, but the pilot wasn't even close to done with him: he kicked him in the knee, causing the soldier's leg to bend backwards. He grabbed him by the throat, slammed his head against the ruined armor of the Mako, and held him up against it. Jenkins had a good look at the Templar: he was young, in his mid to late twenties, with a messy mop of black hair. His face was tanned and marred with a few scars, the most prominent of which cut across the bridge of his nose.

"I congratulate you, Marine." said the Pilot. "You've led me on a merry little chase. It was good sport... while it _lasted_. Hmph... What is your name?"

Jenkins grit his teeth, intent on taking the pain. "Corporal Richard L. Jenkins, Alliance military. ID code One, one-"

"Spare me. This is no interrogation. So... I've decided to reward you, Richard L. Jenkins of the Alliance military. It is the reward of _all_ who are conquered. I... am going to let you live."

The pilot pressed his white hot blade against Jenkins' eyes and swiped it across, blinding him.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"... in woe and suffering!" shouted Caim venomously as he let go of the corporal.

Jenkins screamed in terrible agony, and Caim simply stared at him while he writhed on the ground. Suffering, Caim believed, was like water: obedient to gravity and longing to fall and settle in the lower, darker places of the world. Inflicting suffering unto others below allowed him to keep his head above it, and not dwell overlong on the butchery that had been Mindoir... and the death of his family.

He was sorely tempted to silence the screaming marine permanently, however; He had a most grating, nasal voice made worse by bawling... but then the Black Queen made her presence known, stalling his bloodlust.

 _ **"Caim..."**_ she spoke ethereally in his mind. **_"The interlopers approach. Do not tarry and come to my aid... my champion."_**

"As you wish, my Queen." answered Caim, not knowing nor caring if she could hear him. He turned his back on the whimpering Alliance soldier. "You are fortunate, Corporal! You still have your life. Your compatriots? They won't be so lucky..."

He climbed back into _Angelus_. "I guarantee you that they will die, screaming harder than you did!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The Durendal team had finally arrived at the heart of the Ziggurat, a four-story tall circular chamber one hundred meter across. Its floor was patterned with a complex array of interlocking of Mandalas carved into dark gray stone. The entire room was colored blue by the gloom of the bio-luminescent mushrooms that grew onto ancient statues of a winged, horned woman, mounted on the walls. Their looming figures highlighted in red-orange by the burning shaft of light generated by the Monolith at the center. The Prothean artifact, a five meter tall piece of sculpted alabaster with silver inlays, stood in the middle of a circle of arches, itself fifty meters across. Hundreds of little streaks of blue light rushed to its base, while tongues of flames sprouted from its top. Glowing embers surrounded it, flying under the sway of a whirlwind.

There was something about the monolith... It's low hum seemed to vibrate with an emptiness inside Jensen, close to his heart, and he felt as though the artifact would somehow fill that void and make him more complete, somehow. Was it Benezia messing with his mind again, trying to lure him into a trap? The thought made him resist the urge to run up to the Monolith and touch it.

"Oh, no..." muttered T'soni as they approached the arches. "The monolith - It's ajar!"

"We noticed," said Grey. "Part of our job is getting it open to get to the goods inside, remember?"

"No, you don't understand! There's a proper procedure in handling active Prothean technology, and whoever did this violated the most basic of them all!"

"Which is?"

"To switch the main power off _before_ opening it! This could be cata-"

When Manah failed to finish her sentence, Jensen turned to her. She was completely frozen in place, with a blue aura washing over her like the shifting water of a pool.

"What the-" Garrus couldn't finish his sentence before he was frozen in place himself, and then the entire Durendal team save Jensen had been put in stasis.

 _ **"Come closer, Adam."**_ The voice, an amalgam of two women, resonated through the room like a whisper. **_"I long to see you in the flesh."_**

Jensen attempted to snap Garrus out of Stasis, but without Biotics of his own it was futile. It looked like he would be alone for this.

Benezia appeared in a rush of coalescing shadow and smoke in front of the Prothean monolith, her figure a dark silhouette against the bright red orange glow. She wore little save a black choker to match a black silk gown cut open to expose her abdomen and her inner halves of her breasts. A mask of gleaming dark blue metal covered her face just above the lower lip, and her eyes were pools of black obsidian. Spiral seashells, colored dark purple with flecks of crimson could be seen under the shawl that covered the head and blended with the gown.

The sight of her... he had seen her before. A feeling of deja-vu crawled in the back of Adam's mind, but he mentally shook it off, focusing on the here and now.

 _ **"Ah, but you are a fascinating construct... And powerful, I can tell..."**_ her voices subtly enticed on many levels, promising untold pleasures even as she did not speak of them. " ** _Tell me...Why have you come here?"_** she asked as he approached.

"I made a deal with someone to save a life. Clearly, I should have read the fine print."

_**"Is she your love?"** _

"No, but considering you can read minds, you already knew that."

_**"Ah, but you are SUCH a tantalizing mystery to me... You could have left, and yet you still brave the dangers of the Undercity to be here. So I ask again, and you must answer truthfully. Why... have you come here? You could have left... why stay?"** _

It didn't take long for Jensen to dig deep and come up with a much more honest answer, straight from the heart. Yes, he could have left, could have convinced everyone in the truck that leaving would be the best option, but...

"I stayed because you're the reason this planet has gone to hell, and you must be _stopped_."

 _ **"Ah, there it is, the righteous anger..."**_ she walked around him like water, caressing his shoulder while appraising him. Jensen kept his sight fixed on her wary of any sudden movement. ** _"Do you know what I did, Adam? I merely provided what everyone desired. Is it my fault that the miners desired an end to their toils? That their masters desired to keep what they took from them? That the young and impoverished desired what their parent's masters had? That their parents wanted to drink and fuck with wild abandon? Is it my fault that Templars, in their arrogance, desired dominion over a whole world with a handful to seize it? That their champion craved blood more than control? No... I am not responsible for their wants."_**

"But you are responsible for them going out of control." countered Jensen. At this, Benezia - no, the Black Queen - laughed cruelly.

"Let's skip the part where you offer me everything I've ever wanted, and let's get down to _my_ demand: _surrender_ and come quietly."

"Oh, but I have more to offer than dreams of a house on a hill... my Adam." she passed behind him, and Aya Brea came into view.

"I can make your reality, far, FAR more blissful..." she tapped the side of his helmet, causing the faceplate to open, and she caressed his upper lip. "She would have never loved you, you know? She had made her loathing for you very clear... But I can turn her heart... Or perhaps?..."

Aya's pale skin and elegant clothes exploded in streams of shadow and smoke, and gathered into the shape of an olive-skinned woman clad in an orange and gray flight suit.

"Or perhaps you'd like to resume the affair you entertained even as you desperately searched for your Dulcinea?" asked Faridah. Adam tried his best to hide the shock seeing her again after all these years. "Or maybe..." She exploded into smoke, and it gathered back into the shape of a gaunt man in a leather jacket and a long brown hair tied back into a ponytail. He opened his arms, presenting himself.

"Or maybe you'd like to indulge in unspoken fantasies?" said Pritchard. "No... that's not for you... You want something else besides companionship..."

Pritchard morphed to a woman in a white silver coat, with her brown hair tied back in an elaborate explosion of curled hair. Jensen's breath stilled at the sight. Of all the people to see, here and now...

"No...you want to turn the clock back, and take back your worst mistake..." said Megan, caressing Adam's cheek. "I forgive you, Adam... I forgive what you did to me... become my champion, my knight, and we can have a future together, just like you always wanted..."

...

_"...You were nothing more than a science project to me."_

_..._

"You have nothing that I want."

Jensen's faceplate closed as he slapped her hand away, his decision made. Megan morphed back into the Black Queen, and while her expression was hidden by the Masque, he could _feel_ the fury emanating from it. She floated away from him, rising to loom overhead.

 _ **"Again, you deny me!?**_ **I** ** _, who has seduced the immortal Akasha Lords themselves?!_ I _, who tempted the Mesian high priests from their Machine Idol?! I, who sundered EMPIRES with naught but a whisper?! You are NOTHING compared to them, and you are nothing compared to ME! So be it!"_** She screeched to the heavens: ** _"CAAAAIIIIM!"_**

The roar of thrusters thundered above, fast approaching. Jensen looked up, and leapt out of the way of the falling red form. The huge machine landed on its two feet with a loud crash, and as his own feet touched the ground Jensen immediately recognized the Red Wanzer that he had encountered immediately after he crash-landed on Caleston. It rose, staring at him with its bright blue optic, it's mouth open, ready to spew plasma at him.

 _"Abomination!"_ challenged the pilot through his Wanzer's loudspeakers, _"I've awaited impatiently for a chance to finish what we've started! Have at you!"_

Jensen deployed the Fandango and charged towards the man-shaped war machine.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Vega. "Was that...?"

"The Wanzer, yes." confirmed Bau.

"It just ignored us..." commented Taylor.

Gunfire and explosions echoed down below. "Someone's fighting down there!" shouted Anderson.

"Who else could be down there?" asked Vega.

"Whoever they are," replied Wrex, "Then they're hogging all the fun! Let's hurry!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Jensen took cover behind a pillar - his attempt at negating most of the Wanzer's firepower by entering close-quarters had backfired dramatically when the pilot decided that yes, machine guns and mid-caliber auto-cannons were better ways to deal with a power-armored infantryman. Adam threw his last Snowblind grenade at the Wanzer, intent on robbing the _Wyvern_ of most of its sensor suite. To his utter shock, the Wanzer was quick enough to _catch_ it.

 _"Not this time!"_ shouted the pilot victoriously as his machine's metal fist crushed the grenade. It 'popped' harmlessly inside its palm, and the Snowblind particles spread to an area far too small to be of use. There would be no cloaking for Jensen: a Wanzer's active sensors could spot the EM field of a cloak far too easily. He was pinned down.

On the other hand, the stone arches withstood the gunfire easily. In fact, the stone wasn't even chipping. The Wanzer's pilot lost patience, and decided to destroy both the arches and Jensen with an overhead swing of the giant clod of metal that served as the bipedal war machine's sword.

 _"You think mere stone will protect you from me?!"_ the pilot shouted as the Wanzer dashed forward and brought the mighty weapon down. It made a loud metallic thud as it hit the stone, and the Wanzer was knocked back by the force of its own blow being reflected back at it. Jensen, knowing that the pilot wouldn't be stupid enough to make the same mistake twice, saw his chance to climb onto of the Wanzer and pull his opponent out of the cockpit.

He was just about to bury his wrist-mounted high-frequency blade in the Wanzer's chest when Benezia's biotic bolt hit him from above, knocking him down back on the floor, giving the Red Wanzer a golden opportunity to stomp him flat, which it took immediately.

Jensen rolled away from the incoming metal foot, and jumped back up on his feet. Benezia floated next to the Wanzer's head, caressing it like a pet.

 _ **"Give me your fire."**_ she commanded, and gentle plumes of plasma rolled out of its mouth. Benezia's body flared, generating eight micro-singularities around the Wanzer's head. They drew in the plasma, and quickly the black spheres wreathed in reddish-purple flames became _tiny suns._ Benezia outstretched her arms, and the Wanzer's own Mass Effect core contributed to the feat by propelling the balls of plasma at Jensen, one by one.

Jensen managed to dodge seven, the last had exploded a little too close, and he could _feel_ both the heat and the eddies of dark energy wash over him. If he had been just a little close, he would have been torn apart and vaporized at the same time.

 _ **"You are quick to save yourself, but are you quick enough..."**_ Benezia fired the last ball of energy at - to Jensen's horror - The frozen Durendal team. **_"To save THEM?"_**

With little time to think, Jensen ran full speed at them, outrunning the fireball, but as he stood in front of them, he realized that there was nothing he could do to save them. Even with his considerable strength, moving a person in Stasis was downright impossible. They were doomed, and he would die as well unless he moved out of the way. He had to move out of the way; if he died now, then Benezia would win, and she would do god knows what with the Prothean relic.

_No._

_You can save them. Think, Jensen! How do you stop a ball of plasma? How do you stop a ball of biotics! There has to be a way!_

He took a quick glance behind him. Manah was right behind him, frozen with an expression of surprise.

_..._

_He quickly overrode his Icarus Landing System and switched it on, intent on softening the landing to spare Manah's relatively fragile bones. They were both wrapped in a powerful golden electromagnetic field, and Manah gasped as the energy interacted with her nodes, causing them to flare and burst in a wide mass lightening field that wrapped the whole Durendal team._

_..._

_Shadow? Didn't know that Icarus Landing System of yours could extend that far."_

_"It doesn't." Jensen replied as he set Manah down._

_"I think that was me..." said Manah._

...

Jensen activated and brought up the Pelta shield on his left elbow and braced himself. The ball of dark plasma was inches away from him when the torrent of electromagnetic energy stopped in its tracks. The plasma bled out, following the flow of the electromagnetic maelstrom in its way. Jensen knocked the Singularity away, and it detonated far away from him, the Deep Eyes, Garrus, and Manah. He barely had enough time to savor that small victory when the Red Wanzer suddenly appeared in front of him in a blue flash, its giant blade raised high. Time slowed down as the thick clod of metal came down on him. If he moved out of the way, what would happen to T'soni, in stasis or not?

...

_"Well, you should start thinking about using your O-Tools more." said Ryan. "Those things can be a real lifesaver. Trust me, I should know. That Omni-Armor feature alone should really increase your odds of survival the next time you enter close combat with Seraph wearers."_

_..._

Jensen set the 108's power output at one hundred percent. The suit's integrated Omni-Gel systems quickly conjured glowing plates of hardened gel around Jensen, and his body was covered in an armor of light. He brought his two gauntlets up above his head. As the three ton blade landed on the glowing plates, Jensen felt the considerable pressure buckle his knees, and he silently thanked Zorah's work on his knee actuator when he started pushing the blade back. The strain on his body and the power-suit was immense, but there he was, going toe-to-toe with a giant robot in a contest of strength.

Benezia brought her right hand up, then lowered it, and Jensen found himself struggling to lift the giant blade more and more.

He was losing.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

As Benezia's power levels dropped, the Stasis field she had been maintaining around Manah had dissolved into nothing, and the young asari archaeologist felt gravity wash over body once again and she fell on her hands and knees. As she looked up she saw Shadow struggling to keep a giant sword wielded by the Red Dragon from cleaving them both in two.

Shadow looked down at her. "Run."

"W-what?"

"I said run! This mission is a failure! I..." his knees started to bend and tremble, the floating golden plates of light started to flicker. "I can't keep this up forever. Run, save yourself!"

"No! I can't leave you here!"

 _ **"Oh, by all means, my dear, sweet thing."**_ her mother laughed cruelly - had she ever heard her mother laugh? Manah wondered this briefly. ** _"Stay, stay and watch as his strength wanes and he perishes for your miserable little life! Stay, and learn this final lesson: No one will save you from me in the end! NO ONE! You are MINE, and shall keep you in a cage until you wither and die!"_**

Manah rose up, and stepped in front of the struggling dark-armored man and put her hands on the giant blade.

"He may not be able to save me, but I can save him!" Manah's body flared blue with an intensity that surprised even herself. She countered her mother's mass-increasing field over the blade, and pushed up with her own telekinesis, easing Shadow's burden considerably. "With the gifts you gave me!"

 _ **"You little... bitch! How DARE you defy me?!"**_ The Black Queen floated upwards, and glowed red-purple as she brought both her hands down, a gesture that tripled the mass of the blade. ** _"I should have abandoned you in a ditch and left you as a dry-blooded little monster!"_**

"I..." Manah's could feel the Geas in her skull revolt at her surging biotics, but she ignored its lash.

"...am not..." She fed on the pain, and her body glowed brighter.

"...a MONSTER!"

A burst of blue light surged out of Manah, and Shadow easily lifted the blade with one hand, freeing the other to slice into it with his arm-mounted sword. The thick slab of metal flew off, and Shadow leapt at the giant machine's head, grabbed its brow for leverage, and punched it so hard and so fast that the barriers triggered. Undaunted, he punched it again and again and again, until the barriers lost all power and the metal caved in from the onslaught. Every impact sent the ambulant machine reeling backwards, and on the final blow it fell on its back while Shadow jumped away and landed on his hand and feet.

The Black Queen was livid, and screamed. _**"Fools! This is not a victory for you, not in the least!"**_ Sixteen micro-singularities formed around her, and she rose her hand skywards, ready to project them. Both Shadow and Manah were winded by their struggles, and could barely move. After all this, were they still doomed?

The whistle of a rocket grew louder and louder, and Manah saw a plume of white smoke streak across her sight to strike and explode into the Black Queen's back. The barrier she had erected around herself soaked up nearly all of the force, but and was knocked out of the air. Her concentration ruined, the dark energy spheres dissolved, and the Deep Eyes were freed of their Stasis.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Suck on that you crazy blue BITCH!" shouted Vega victoriously as he cycled another mini-rocket into his GEP gun's firing chamber. "Yeah!"

Bau had not exactly appreciated the young human's initiative: he had hoped to capture Benezia alive in order to interrogate her. However, She had shown an impressive display of Biotic power, which, to his shock and amazement, involved making a Wanzer execute a Biotic Charge.

All things considered, perhaps shooting her with a rocket was the more prudent course of action. Now all they needed to do was deal with the combat mech that had punched a Wanzer into the ground... Bau wasn't quite sure if intervening in their fight before Benezia scrapped it was the right call. Then again, T'soni had been in the line of fire as well...

On second thought, perhaps he should commend Vega for his initiative later.

"What do we do about those mercs, sir?" Taylor asked Anderson.

"First," Anderson replied, "we make sure Benezia and that Wanzer don't get up again, we secure T'soni, and then there will be time for questions."

"That's assuming they let us secure T'soni."

"If they don't let us take her, then we kill 'em," said Wrex. "Simple."

"Hmph, agreed." said Bau. Finding T'soni here had been a welcome bit of good fortune: It looked like his mission would be a success after all.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Coming out of Stasis was an experience that the US marines were simply never prepared for. One minute you're doing something, then all of a sudden you feel disoriented and everything around you feels different, like time passed you by in a split second. Grey fell on all fours, trying not to puke in his helmet. He shook his head, got back up once the world stopped spinning, and took stock of the situation.

There was a Wyvern Wanzer, painted red, lying on its back with its head smashed in, and Benezia lay near it, her silk clothing smoking. He wondered if Jensen had done that all by himself... but then he noted the presence of another armed band. Mercs? No, Alliance, judging by their colors, along with a Kroc and a Gecko. They were approaching them - carefully, with their weapons in hand.

Jensen had been kneeling, and recovering from a great deal of exertion. "Are you alright?" he asked T'soni.

"I'm fine... what about you?"

"Honestly?" he got back on his feet, and Grey noted that his legs made some funny noises... I could use some rest."

The rest of the Deep Eyes, along with Garrus, had recovered their senses as well, and saw the defeated Wanzer, the fallen Matriarch and the approaching group of Alliance troopers.

Jane grimaced as if tasting a piece of bile. "Great... Allie comes to the rescue at the last fucking second. _Again_."

"Spirit, Mr. Blue, Paladin... go and make sure Benezia and that Wanzer stay down. Shadow, T'soni? You go shut down that damned artifact and open it properly. I'll talk-"

Benezia rose in air and shrieked like a banshee, her bleeding body surrounded in a purple aura. Tongues of flame sprang from the monolith and were sucked into her mask, making it pour out a black liquid that veined her skin and quickly covered her completely in dark liquid metal, forming a seamless armor in the shape of a woman. The Wanzer rose as well, but it looked like he was being torn apart, limb by limb.

The pilot was spared the carnage, amazingly enough, and he landed on two feet while his twelve swords hovered about him, slave to the Lorentz force generated by the disks on his elbows. The Wanzer's wreckage began to take shape around Benezia, and the liquid metal sprang out to form a web of veins that melted the metal into the shape of a giant headless woman with six metal wings and a serpentine tail.

The Deep Eyes fired their guns at the reformed machine, but it was no use, a powerful Barrier had been erected around it, and Benezia laughed.

_**"Fools! A moment's weakness and you think yourselves victorious?!"** _

The Wanzer's element zero core floated above and behind the machine, and Benezia sat on a throne where its head should have been. Huge eyes mounted on the insectile limbs the wings were mounted on opened, and each one tracked a different person.

 _ **"Look upon the true form of the Black Queen! Am I not beautiful?!"**_ she cackled madly. ** _"Kneel before me..._** " Biotic orbs - dozens of them - appeared and orbited around her. _ **"...or suffer!"**_

"TAKE COVER!" screamed Grey as the Black Queen began her biotic artillery strike.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Dark Energy erupted all around Wrex as he sprinted for cover at the ring of arches that surrounded the artifact, and he cursed Bau for thinking the mission practically over. They were now dealing with a Biotic Wanzer.

_A Biotic Wanzer._

A normal one would have been enough trouble for a small squad of infantrymen, but a Biotic one? This... This was going to be a challenge.

"Open fire!" shouted Anderson. His battle-suit was connected to his LMG through a coolant tube, allowing the gun to fire indefinitely by using the suit's own heat sinks. Vapor emerged from vents on his back. "Bring down that thing's barrier! Vega, ready your GEP gun for a full barrage!"

"Aye-aye, sir! Give me an opening and-whoa!"

Vega was interrupted when a sword-wielding Templar - that damned Wanzer's former pilot - appeared in a burst of biotic energy and slashed at him with a pair of serrated blades. Vega's reflexes, boosted by his Adrenaline Rush, allowed him to block with his large weapon. The GEP gun was slashed in half, and Vega fell on his back. The Templar was about to finish him when Wrex Charged in and knocked the Templar away. To the little human's credit, he landed on his feet. Wrex followed it up with a Heavy pistol shot to the chest, but the swords that hovered about the Templar - was he a biotic? Wrex wondered - formed a wall that blocked the shot. Anderson tried to overcome that metal barrier by firing his LMG at it, but it held fast. Taylor tried to knock it away with his biotics, but it held against that as well.

Wrex drew out his new greataxe and smiled. This was going to be settled in melee combat. "You folks take care of the witch. This uppity human is mine!"

"Try and last more than ten seconds, Lizard!" challenged the Templar.

"You try and last more than one, monkey!"

And the two warriors charged at each other, roaring.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Garrus and Ryan fired as many Overload tech mines at it, but the Black Queen's barrier just wouldn't go down.

"Dammit! It doesn't matter what we throw at it, nothing works!" shouted Ryan.

"She's tapping energy from the artifact!" added Garrus. "Wolf, we have to put a stop to that! I still have the high explosives!"

"We might need those to take HER out!" replied Grey. "T'soni! Do you think you can shut the monolith down?"

"I... I think I can close it, yes! The mandala's still intact, I can simply turn one of its dials back in the proper config-"

"Don't care how you do it, just do it! Paladin! Shadow! Give her cover! Blue! Spirit! Fire everything you've got at Benezia! Keep her attention on you!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

For Garrus, 'everything he had' now meant his modified Mongoose heavy pistol. The Steiner-Bisley Greatsword that Grey had provided him was now fresh out of gunpowder ammo, and while the Templar beam gun Jensen had given him still had a full charge, he wasn't keen on wasting it on Benezia's impenetrable barrier. Particle guns did about as well against that kind of defense as kinetic energy weapons.

So, he was down to firing his Mongoose pistol at a Biotic Wanzer... which didn't even annoy it. Benezia quickly took notice of the two large men escorting her daughter, and she needed to be distracted, and fast.

_What do I have? My beloved Mongoose, and a Particle Gun/Sword that's a bit too awesome to use. None of these will do._

_What else do I have?_

_I have a couple of LAMs, and... A satchel case with_ _six cylinders of custom made explosive._

_Oh yes, this will do._

He took out one of the explosive charges and, lacking a detonator, stuck a LAM on it, armed it, and drew back his arm for a throw.

"Vakarian!" screamed Grey. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Getting her attention!" replied the Turian cop. He gave the throw all he had, and when the bomb interacted with the dark energy of Benezia's biotic barrier, it exploded into a ball of plasma and kinetic energy that briefly sundered the barrier. The shockwave was felt by everyone in the Ziggurat's central chamber.

Benezia had felt that shockwave through her Barrier, and now all of her eyes stared daggers at Garrus.

He had gotten her attention, alright.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"The mercs got heavy explosives!" shouted Vega. "They've got a shot at finishing this!"

"Keep firing!" ordered Anderson. "Keep Benezia off their backs!"

Anderson replaced the ammo block in his LMG and continued firing. At the same time, Bau desperately emptied his Venom's omni-gel tank firing explosive sub-munitions at Benezia, while Vega and Taylor fired their Avengers into her back. It was no use; her armor regenerated quickly, and it wasn't long before the globe of biotic energy surrounded her again.

Meanwhile, Wrex was wrapped in a Barrier of his own, keeping the crazy Templar swordsman at bay... and getting visibly tired. It would not be long before he would be cut down, and then nothing would stop the madman from chopping them up into ribbons.

"Anderson!" screamed Bau. "The mercenaries and T'soni are doing something to the monolith! I think they're trying to shut it down!"

The captain understood that if they were to have a chance in hell of stopping Benezia, they needed to cut her off from the monolith's energy. "Taylor! Detonate any micro-singularities that come their way!"

"I'll try, sir!" replied the Vanguard.

"Don't try, DO IT, marine!"

"Aye-aye!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

A dark energy bolt exploded above Jensen as he shielded Manah, while Ryan protected them both with his Omni-Shield. They hurried to the spot that Manah had pointed out, a circle some five meters away from the Monolith. The Asari archeologist knelt and began altering a hologram conjured from the ground.

"This will just take a minute!" she said, trying not to lose her calm as her mother raged.

"Hurry up!" shouted Ryan. "My friends are -ugh!" Another biotic bolt detonated above him, and his overpowered shield absorbed the shockwave. "They're almost out of ammo!"

Jensen himself was running on fumes; his suit's power was down to one percent. If Benezia or even that Templar attacked, he wasn't sure if he could stop either of them.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The two warriors were evenly matched in skill, and while the Krogan had strength and resilience, Caim had far more speed. Still, that wasn't enough to defeat the blasted Alien that had challenged him.

"What's the matter?!" shouted the Alien as he made a horizontal strike, triggering the axe's rockets for that extra bit of speed. "Never fought a Krogan before?!"

"I fought plenty!" Caim ducked under the blow - the plasma jet barely singing his hair. "I have plenty of crests mounted on my wall!"

"Ha! You're a bad liar, human!"

"It's no lie! It's pathetic, really! You Krogan act like nothing could possibly faze you, but if someone so much caresses those things with a knife, you panic and mewl like kittens!"

"You're trying to make me mad?!" The Krogan focused his biotics into the head of the Greataxe, and slammed the ground with it. A shockwave rode the floor and hit Caim in the legs, causing him to fall. The Krogan stepped up and rose the weapon, ready to finish the duel by beheading him. "Well, you SUCCEEDED, idiot!"

Caim rolled out of the way and quickly got back to his feet. The Queen's voice rang in his head.

_**"Caim, my daughter plans to rob me of my power. Stop her. Ignore the Krogan and STOP HER!"** _

"As you wish, my Queen." he replied, calmly.

Caim positioned himself between the Krogan and the trio near the monolith, and goaded the Battlemaster into striking again. He succeeded, and the Krogan made a wide horizontal swing. Caim jumped on the weapon's shaft, and he added the Krogan's power to his leap. He landed right in front of the Asari girl. Her eyes widened in shock and horror, an expression Caim savored.

"Hello, little bird..." he swung at her neck, but the serrated blade only found the humming steel attached to the Abomination's arm.

"T'soni!" it said. "Don't stop!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Grey saw both Ryan and Jensen engage the Templar swordsman. The Krogan he had been engaged with was charging at them, intent on joining the fray. Before that he noticed that the Alliance soldiers had a biotic with them. A plan formed in his head, even as he came under fire from these blasted exploding orbs.

"Vakarian! Get ready to throw another of these explosive charges at her on my mark!"

"Gladly!"

Grey ran from cover to cover, and linked up with the Alliance soldiers. One of them, had a red stripe over his arm, and he assumed that he was in command. "Hey! Are you in command?"

"Captain David Anderson," boomed the power-suited marine. "Alliance Military! Who the hell are you?!"

 _To hell with this mercenary cover._ "Edward Gray, United States Marine Corps!"

"Grey?! What the hell are the-"

"No time for questions! I got a plan, but I need your biotic to make me float! Can he do that?"

"Are you insane?!"

"I'm going to distract Benezia while my man with the explosives brings down her barrier again. Once I distract her, you shoot at her Eezo core! All the energy in the world won't do her any good if she can't make a barrier with it!"

"Sir!" called out the Biotic. "I can do it!"

"It's a sound plan!" agreed Bau.

"...Fine." agreed the Alliance captain. "But it's your ass on the line."

"I know it is." Grey replied. "Oorah."

"Taylor, do it!"

"Aye aye, sir!" The Biotic lifted Grey up, freeing him from Caleston's gravity. Grey activated his micro-jets, and darted around and above Benezia, annoying her like a fly. "Now!" he shouted, and Vakarian threw a double dose of explosives at Benezia. The blast destroyed her barrier, and Grey dodged biotic orbs as he propelled himself towards the Biotic Wanzer's head - Benezia herself. He landed right in front of her, grabbed her by the neck, and fired his Serpent point blank into her belly. Just as he did so, the Alliance marines focused their fire on the floating Element Zero core. It cracked under the onslaught of kinetic energy, and Benezia was left without her first line of defense.

"Die, you goddamned witch! DIE!" Even as he shouted the words, Benezia's wounds sealed back up. She grabbed the Serpent with her own hands, and crushed the barrel.

 _ **"DIE?!"**_ Benezia grabbed Grey by the throat. **YOU _WANT ME TO DIE?! I HAVE DIED A THOUSAND TIMES OVER AT THE HANDS OF BEINGS FAR MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU FILTHY LITTLE MONKEYS, AND I HAVE RISEN AG-AAARGH!"_**

The arm that held Grey by the throat was severed by a lance of energy. The biotic field that kept him free of gravity faded, and he fell on the ground. As he recovered, Garrus rushed to him, Longinus rifle in hand, and helped him up.

"Nice shot," said Grey.

"Sometimes you get lucky." replied the Turian as he dragged him back into cover.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Jondum Bau was, to be honest, quite impressed with the audacity of the Terran Marine. He had failed in killing Benezia once and for all, but his plan had mostly worked: Benezia's defenses were failing, and her liquid metal armor was starting to fail under the combined gunfire of his Venom shotgun and the Alliance Marine's weapons... and the occasional beam of light that came from the Turian in the service of the US marines.

Yes, they were going to win this.

"Benezia!" He called out, even as he kept firing at her. "Shut down your Wanzer and surrender! I promise you that the Council will show you leniency!"

 _ **"Surrender?!"**_ Benezia landed on her machine's feet, and one of her giant hands created a ball of plasma, formed out of the wisps of flame that emanated from the Prothean artifact. **_"I cannot be caged!"_** She threw it at him. _**"I cannot be controlled! Understand this as you die, fool!"**_

Bau and the Normandy team hit the deck, as the ball of plasma exploded against the arches.

"You just had to piss her off, didn't you?" said Anderson.

And then Benezia set the stone on _fire._

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The Krogan had been the first to fall. He had been difficult to duel, but he did not work very well with others. Caim had sliced off his leg from the back of his knee just as he shouted something about never ignoring one's enemy, or some other alien nonsense. Caim was just about to stab him in the chest before the human with the omni-shield bashed him with the glowing plate - His shot-pistol having been cut in half, that was all he could do to save the alien.

That had made him made Caim very, very mad, and rage gave him more focus. The Abomination attempted to slice his head off - an amateurish strike with a blade mounted on the wrist, and easily dodged. Caim kicked him in the back while he dealt with the shield bearer. That one... that one had been trained better in the fighting arts, he could tell, but that didn't stop him from getting his shoulder pierced with one of Caim's floating blades. His stance faltered, and Caim side-kicked him in the neck. The large man fell, limp like a rag doll.

That left the Abomination to be dealt with. Caim traded Popola and Devola (his serrated blades) for Furiae (his curved greatsword). He took a stance, ready to slice the machine man in half. It drew its revolver and fired explosive rounds at him. Caim laughed as his Lorentz Force generators mounted in his cowters automatically put up a barrier of blades in front of him, shielding him from the explosive bullets.

"Go ahead, reload! But while you're at it..." He eyed the Black Queen's daughter frantically trying to solve a Prothean puzzle. "Let me take care of this annoyance, first!"

Devola flew at the Asari, and the Abomination leapt in her way. She pierced the dark-armored man's chest, close to where the heart should be. The machine fell to the ground, unmoving.

"Well, that was easy." quipped Caim. He had expected more out of the cyborg. Maybe the screaming Turian charging him with an Omni-Sword would prove to be better sport.

As he struck the sword away from the turian, and smacked him across the face into a coma, he realized it would not be so.

Oh well.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Nooooo!" screamed Manah. Tears streamed down her face as all thoughts of shutting down the monolith fled from her mind. She ran up to her fallen protector to try to do something - anything! - to save him. But the Templar grabbed her by the throat. He shuddered as he touched her.

"Ah... so that's how it feels to touch you..." said the Templar. Manah was horrified. He was still sane. _How was he still sane?_

Shadow stirred, and the Templar followed Manah's surprised gaze. He threw her away, away from the Mandala, away from her savior.

"I'll deal with you later..." muttered the Templar venomously.

She had tried to come to his defense - tried to fire off a biotic blast... but she had given everything she had saving everyone from that gigantic blade. She had nothing left to give. The Turian had nothing left to give... and from the smoking ruins of the arches that surrounded her, and the mad, victorious cackling of her mother... it was apparent that neither the Alliance, or these Deep Eyes, could come to his aid.

It was hopeless.

The Templar pulled the serrated blade from Shadow's fallen form, and blood splattered over the Mandala as the Templar shook the blade clean.

"Blood?" taunted the Templar. "Red blood? I would have thought your kind would bleed the same mercury as my Mistress' servants." He put the blade against Shadow's throat.

And then the blood glowed green.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

_**"Did you think some man with a gun could stop a creature such as I?"**_ asked Benezia as she held both Anderson and Grey in her giant, mechanical hands.

"It was worth a shot." replied Grey.

_**"I could have given you her heart, body and soul, Grey. I could have made Angela love you again..."** _

"...Go to hell."

_**"And you David. It's not too late. I can bring her back. I can make her love you as a daughter... and as a lover."** _

Anderson simply spat at Benezia. "Fuck you."

Grey chuckled at that.

_**"So you will not submit. You will not become my thralls."** _

Anderson and Grey said nothing. And Benezia began to squeeze.

Even as his ribs started to crack, Grey felt he needed to say something. "I...argh! I know we only met five minutes ago, but I just want to say... It was an honor, Anderson."

"Like...wise. argh..." The pain was intense for both men, but both of them refused to scream.

Their only regret was that the last thing they would see would be Benezia's grinning face... which quickly turned to surprise as the entire floor began to glow green. She let both soldiers go.

_**"What...NO! CAIM, YOU FOOL! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"** _

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

**DNA PATTERN PARTIALLY RECOGNIZED**

**ANIMA SCAN COMPLETE**

**WELCOME BACK, ALEPH**

**I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU... for so long...**

_**...** _

_Was this death, Adam wondered? Was this the Afterlife? A computer voice drones on, and there's nothing but black? He had been raised Catholic, and time had worn those beliefs down to agnosticism... but he had still hoped for something a bit more interesting._

_Then another voiced boomed, and yet was gentle on the ears._

_**Alif.** _

_"Who's there?" Jensen asked the darkness._

_**Alif... open your eyes.** _

_"That's not my name. My name is Adam."_

_**That is not the name your mother gave you, as she held you in her arms while you were still covered in the blood of her womb. That is not the name that echoed throughout the universe as she uttered it for the first time.** _

_**Alif.** _

_**Don't be afraid.** _

_**Open your eyes.** _

_Adam opened his eyes, and saw an infinitely complicated machine made of impossible configurations of gears and transmissions, surrounded by ever shifting, ever moving caterpillar tracks made out of silver plates. Lightning cracked between the machine and an eternal black void._

_It was a throne._

_And within that throne stood - no floated- a man. His mechanical arms outstretched, clad in a long, tan robe that hovered over his legs but hugged his chest tightly. He wore a headdress, a strip of metal that curved over the top of his head from ear to ear, and beads attached to each tip floated weightlessly. His eyes glowed green behind a mask that covered his entire face._

_**I am Aleph.** _

_**I am the first of the Prometheans.** _

_**And you must listen.** _

"This... this is nothing but a dying dream. I took a blade in the heart, and now my brain's last neurons are firing off some kind of foolish delusion!..."

_**You and your companions fought well, but an army would not have been enough. Naamah toyed with you: her nanites would have restored her flesh even if you had unleashed a hailstorm of metal shards at it. The Barrier was simply there to keep her form preserved: a testament to her vanity. Explosives would not have worked. The shadow man tried to prepare you as best he could... but he failed.** _

_**A man with a gun cannot hope to defeat what is to come. That is folly, a fantasy conjured up by your leaders.** _

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do, then?!"

_**To fight the Reapers, the Children of Nazara, you must be armed with knowledge.** _

_**And this... this is the first tome you must study.** _

_A small tablet of stone appeared between Adam and Aleph._

_**This is the Grimoire of the Divine Fire.** _

_Images flashed in Adam's mind:_

_The Molten Earth._

_The Rain Transformed._

_The Air Ignited._

_Adam's head felt like it was on fire._

_**This is the knowledge of the flow of energy.** _

_**With it you can cut out her heart: her true heart, the one that sleeps in the darkness, and reclaim the Anima that she took.** _

_**Awaken, Alif. And take your first steps on the Path.** _

_**What you are now is but a stepping stone to what you can become...** _

**DOWNLOAD COMPLETE.**

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"What diablerie is this?!" The glowing green blood that came from the machine followed the grooves of the mandala, and they began a circuitous trip towards the Prothean monolith. It's shaft of light had turned from a flaming pillar of orange flame to a bright blue solid beam of light. Lightning crackled between it and the metal cage.

Caim was panicking, but he could fix this. He could fix this! He still had a blade at the Abomination's throat - It was causing it, he knew it! All he had to do was swipe the blade and cut off its head and it would be ov-

The cyborg grabbed the blade with its hand, and dug its plasma claws into it, momentarily blinding Caim with the bright flash of light. It forced the blade away from its throat and got up, his fingers buried deep in Caim's wrists. When Caim's eyes recovered, the cyborg was covered in teal glowing Omni-Gel. Its faceplate opened, revealing eyes that glowed a yellow green. It put a finger on his forehead, and Caim knew that he was doomed.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Adam could feel the pulses of electricity that coursed through his body. He could feel the circuits in his implants, and in his suit. He had never felt so awake, so alive, and aware of everything around him.

He could feel the pulses that ran through the Templar's brains - Caim, that was his name, yes. Caim, despite all his rage and fury and thirst for blood, was a pitiable creature that simply did not wish to dwell on the horrible death of his family. Naamah had offered him some relief, and that had been enough for him to swear loyalty to her. Through him Leon and Ari, bound to him in ways that they could not comprehend, followed suit.

He was nothing but a pathetic thrall, and Adam took pity on him.

 **"Sleep,"** he said, and the pulses in Caim's brain stilled, and the boy fell into unconsciousness.

_**"...No... no! No! NO! It cannot be you. IT CANNOT BE YOU! I SAW YOU PERISH ON THAT PRIMITIVE WORLD! MY CREATOR STRUCK YOU DOWN ONCE AND FOR ALL!"** _

**"Naamah. You should know better. Death is not the end. How many times has Nazara seen fit to restore you into a..."** Adam laughed. **"...a piece of clothing? What was it this time? An undergarment? A hat?"**

_**"HOW DARE YOU! I..."** _

While Naamah ranted (as she always ranted when her inflated sense of worth was called into question _-wait how do I know that?_ ) Adam looked around for a weapon. Finding none that would do. He decided to make one with what was at hand. Shards of Starfire littered the ground, and a huge slab of titanium lay there, some distance away. Adam's star fire cores in his armor flared, and the ingredients were brought together.

This room... This was not a place of communion, as the primitives would like to think. Nor was this a chamber of power, as Naamah liked to believe. No, this room was a _forge_ , the final test for the students of Vulcanus, before they moved on to the higher secrets of Molecular Control.

Lighting struck the metal and the shards, conducted from the Core through the monolith and through the air. The energy melted the elements, and Jensen clenched his fist, forming a mold of dark energy that crushed the huge clod of metal into the shape of a blade small enough for a man, segmented at the lower half. The blade cooled immediately, and Jensen grabbed it, feeling its weight.

It was not his best work _\- when have I ever forged a sword?!_ \- but for the likes of Naamah? It would do.

_**"...AND WHEN I CLAIM YOUR ANIMA NAZARA WILL REWARD ME BEYOND MEASURE!"** _

**"Ah, you are done talking."** Adam took a stance, bringing his sword high, ready to strike. Adam had never properly wielded a sword before, but.. it felt right, somehow. **"Shall I remind you, Naamah? Shall I remind you why Nazara had to put you in a vessel so small?"** Lightning surged out of the blade, its metal sang, and its edge became a bright blue. **"Come! And remember what it is to fight a TRUE Promethean!"**

 _ **"You are not a true Promethean!"**_ screamed the Black Queen as she conjured up balls of plasma. **_"You are the last echo of one, animating the corpse of some mongrel, as you always have! And I shall make this echo still and silent ONCE AND FOR ALL!"_**

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

They had all opened their eyes, at some point, their bodies were tired, or broken, but they could all open their eyes. And they all saw.

Vega saw Tlaloc, as he imagined him as a boy, cutting off one of the wings of the great beast whose taloned feet had kicked him into a pillar.

Taylor saw Shango, as he imagined him when he listened his grandmother describe him so long ago... He saw Shango, reflecting a bolt of purple light right back at a hideous creature that had made a piece of pillar fall on top of him. She was smacked against the wall.

Whitaker saw the Archangel Gabriel himself, but he was running up the walls, his feet crackling thunder, catching up with Satan trying to fly away and escape God's wrath. Williams saw them as such, passing by twice: once rising, then once falling.

Proudfoot saw an fusion of a Thunderbird and Taranis bring down a great winged serpent that had knocked her away with its tail.

Wrex saw Vaul tear out the wings of Uru, the Void Maw, with his bare hand.

Garrus saw a Myrmidon with the power of a Titan, but he also saw his dearest friend, planting his sword in one of Benezia's giant eyes.

Anderson saw a machine, granted powers beyond his understanding.

Grey saw Jensen, more powerful than he had feared... and yet, he was glad that this power was on his side.

Jondum Bau couldn't process what he was seeing at all. There was no myth for his mind to fall back on.

And Manah? Manah saw what she had always dreamed of, but never dared to hope she would ever see.

And then she saw her mother being torn out of the giant machine she had built, and crawl towards her, leaving a trail of black blood behind.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Manah... help me."

 **"You are beyond help, Naamah."** said Adam, his voice not his own. He walked behind her, sword in hand, ready to finish this. **"The untold billions I have MURDERED by letting you LIVE."** Tears welled up in his eyes. Oh, yes, billions had died to her machinations, her need for idolatry. **"Here, in this place, Nazara will not come to save you. Here, in this place, you will not escape. You will die a true - and final - death."**

He rose his blade, ready to slice her chest apart, right in the sweet spot, and claim the wyrm of red Anima that animated the corpse of the poor woman.

**"Now it ends as you said it would! Once and for all!"**

"Stop!" screamed the young girl - Manah, that was her name, yes. The blade stopped just short of her head. She stood defiantly against him, tears in her eyes. "Please," she begged. "That's my _mother!_ "

**"...Your mother is as good as dead. Stand aside, and let me end her suffering."**

"No! She's in there somewhere! She has to be!"

**"Yes, she is. But she is beyond saving. Her soul's Anima is mingled with a Reaper, and that means a death the likes of which you do not know."**

"There has to be a way to save her! You're a Prothean! You can do anything!"

"He's right... Manah, I am damned let him finish it..."

"Mother!" Manah knelt by her mother's side. She wanted to touch her, to hold her in arms, but...

"I can still hear her whisper in my mind... Oh, she rages! My body is but a cage, too small and too limited to contain her fury! I thought I was using a Prothean tool, but in fact it was I being used! I tried to seal away a part of my mind, but she found even that sanctum! There's no escape, no escape for me, my child! Let him do his work, let him free what is left of my soul while there is still time!"

"No!" cried Manah in despair. "I can't let it end like this!"

"You MUST!" Benezia's biotics flared, and Manah was pushed away. Manah desperately pushed back physically against the wall of force, her feet sliding against the floor wet with her mother's black blood.

Benezia struggled to rise, naked save for slivers of liquid black metal and the Masque, now empty of Naamah. Adam could see her true form: a wyrm of red fire, coiled around Benezia's heart. He would have to cut deep to reach it.

"Manah, my Little Storm, I'm sorry for everything... but please... close your eyes." Benezia begged.

"Mother! MOTHER!"

"Close your eyes!"

Manah finally obeyed, and shut her eyes tightly. Benezia stares silently at Adam... her executioner.

"Promise me, Promethean... promise me you will take care of her?"

**"...I shall. I admire your strength, Matriarch. Few are those that can struggle against the will of a Reaper."**

"But they never last long, do they?" Benezia smiled sadly.

**"...No. The Reaper always wins out in the end."**

"...He is growing stronger."

**"I know."**

"Do you think you can defeat him?"

**"...I can only promise that I will not let him win."**

"...Good. That's good..." Benezia took a deep breath, and the wyrm stirred in a panic. It knew the end was coming.

"Finish it." Benezia said finally.

Adam swung down diagonally, cutting Benezia in half. The wyrm wriggled free from her flesh, and Adam seized the creature of fire, spirit and breath. Lightning crackled around his fist as he crushed the abomination, burning it away, releasing the energy from its gorged, swollen form. Adam claimed a portion of it, and the taste of it felt... familiar. He had felt it whenever he broke someone's spirit on his fists. He had felt it when he killed Barrett, felt it when Fedorova's blood spilled on the floor, and he had felt it when Namir took his last breath.

But it was stronger, here.

Benezia's body dissolved to ashes, and from these rose a multitude of white wisps, rising up, fluttering like fireflies.

And there was nothing left for Manah to mourn. That was all she could see when she opened her eyes, after the wall of force faded and she fell on her knees.

Ashes.

Adam planted the sword on the pile, letting it fuse with the stone. It was a final gesture of respect, marking a grave for a poor soul taken over by the Reapers. Another they would answer for.

"Why?" she asked as she approached Adam. "Why couldn't you..." she started hitting him, her hands impacting uselessly against his chest. "You... you could have saved her!" she cried. "You could have saved her!"

**"...I'm sorry."**

"Sorry?! I am all alone now! My mother is dead! My sister is dead! Even my caretakers are dead! They're all gone!"

**"There was nothing I could do for her."**

"You're a Prothean! You're supposed to have all the answers! You can't save one life?!"

"I..." Jensen realized that his voice was his own again, and then it was as if the inside of his head had been set on fire. "I... I...argh!"

"W-what... what's happening to you?!"

"My head, I can't..." His blue Omni-Armor flickered and melted into a puddle around him, and his chest wound bled out over Manah's hands.

"No! NO! Not you too! Please, no!"

Adam fell on his knees, and Manah found herself keeping him from falling over completely. A voice boomed from the Monolith, it's shaft of light gone.

"ERROR. HOST CAPACITY INSUFFICIENT. INITIATING ANIMA BACKUP."

Wisps of blue light surged out of Adam's head, taking with them millions of years of a accumulated wisdom, memories, and skills... and rushed into the Monolith.

"GRIMOIRE SAVED."

The monolith split in half, and floating between the two halves was a tablet of stone, waiting impatiently to be claimed.

Adam fell down, and rolled on his back. He felt so... drained, now. He could feel the presence of the Deep Eyes, Garrus, the Alliance soldiers and the two aliens walking up to him, their steps slow and pained.

"No..." muttered Garrus. "Please, Spirits... don't let it end like this. We've been through so much..."

"Please! Don't go!" cried Manah. Adam found her voice so high, so pretty... so close, and so far away. The sound was so pleasant, and he wanted to hear it again.

It was getting darker.

"He's... not gonna make it, is he?" said Jane.

"Please..." begged Manah.

Everything was a blur...

"Stay with me..."

The last thing Jensen heard before the silent brightness took him was the whine of a dropship's engines.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? You didn't think I was going to let Jensen KEEP those demi-god powers, did ya? Well, there it is, the end of the Caleston arc. Nothing will be the same for anyone. You, me, the characters. It's all gonna get crazier from here.
> 
> Or will it? There's still a conspiracy to unravel. I think it's time for Jensen to walk more familiar environment. The streets of Illium await!... Just as soon as I'm done with the epilogue.
> 
> Also, holy crap: 25k words chapter.
> 
> Sorry to any folks from Ireland for the use of bad Irish straight out of Google Translate to stand in as Old Thessian, but I didn't have time to come up with random alien words. Besides, coming up with an alien language carries a risk: Try saying "I'd like a glass of water." in made-up Salarian, and you just might be insulting someone's mother in Bulgarian. If you're curious, Circe said: "O Geis, punish this one, and grant her the seventh level of suffering!"
> 
> The first part of the Black Queen series got itself a new introductory paragraph. I felt it needed one, and think i'll be making more tweaks to parts 2 and 3 later on. I'll be sure to make note of any changes in future updates.
> 
> I really, wanted to have Anderson say Oscar Mike here at some point... but I resisted the urge of slapping in yet another reference. I'm trying folks, I really am.
> 
> Special thanks to Vandenbz and Setokaiva for the spellchecking.


	5. Aftermath

**_DURENDAL_ **

* * *

First, there had been earthquakes. Between those, the thunder and the rain, everyone on Caleston thought that this was it: The Big One. The End of the World. This world, at least, and they were right. It was the end of Caleston.

But it was also the rebirth of Vulcanus.

The planet's crust cracked and broke, opening pockets of gas in which slumbered untold trillions of spores. The spores settled on the wet ash, fed on the moisture in the air, and within hours grew into tall fungal plants. Forests of mushrooms and lichen covered the entire surface within hours, even Syneu's. For most of the residents, it was a nuisance. For the poor in the plasma-ravaged slums... it was food, and shelter, and even illumination in the dark.

A godsend, in other words.

Three men clad in dirty clothes were huddled around an oil drum, with a makeshift grill made out of girders holding up skewers of mushrooms to the heat of a flame. They warmed their hands... it was cold outside, colder than it had ever been. After years of 30 degrees Celsius heat and humidity, at ten degrees they shivered uncontrollably.

"Diner's ready!" said one of the men. "I checked with the clinic: these are safe to eat."

"Good," replied another. "Don't want to see no pink elephants like last time."

"Oh come on now," said the third, "It wasn't that bad. Hell, it was good fun after... you know..."

"After that damned Wanzer started roasting us in our homes?... yeah, I suppose that was some well-needed good cheer after that."

They ate their meal silently for a while. All of them wished they had some garlic butter, but none of them complained. The stuff tasted delicious roasted, anyways.

"Speaking of that Wanzer..."

"I'd rather not, you know?"

"I heard it got done in by - get this - a man in dark armor. Not with a gun or a rocket launcher, but with his bare hands. Heard one of the kids say so."

"Don't be daft. Power-armor or no, no man can stand up to a Wanzer."

"I heard something about that! I heard he was as strong as a titan and lifted that damned Red Wanzer and threw it into the sun!"

"Now you're just making shit up. No, no, the way I heard it, he took it down with a knife..."

"I heard he just ran for the hills."

"You sure about that? I haven't seen that Red Wanzer around anymore. The Templars are still around, but no Red Wanzer."

They kept going back and forth like this, and others eventually joined them, adding to the tale.

And just like that, a legend was born.

All it needed now was a name.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Adam opened his eyes. He still felt groggy...like he had been drugged, and he felt a warm weight press against his right side. Probably a heated pillow, or something.

He focused on his surroundings: Judging by the metal ceiling, he was in the Durendal's sickbay. He heard the clicking sounds of programmable plastics and polymers, and noticed rings and sensors fold themselves away from his head.

_The Dreamcatcher. This was all a dream. Of course it was all a dream. The whole experience felt like something straight out of a bad fantasy novel. I didn't go through some ancient underground city. I didn't fight some plasma flinging demon. The universe as I know it still makes sense._

He heard the turning of pages on his left. Hein was there, lounging in a chair, writing in a green book. "Good morning, Adam." he said quietly, not looking away from the book.

"Fuck you."

"Well, that's a fine how do you do? Who pissed in your cereal this morning?"

"You did. You put me through some goddamned nightmare. As soon as the drugs wear off I'm getting off of this bed and I'm kicking your ass. But before I do that, you're going to explain to me why you put me through hell."

"...Why, giggles, of course." Hein chuckled. "But honestly? I hadn't expected things to get out of hand this early. I wanted you to have more time getting used to the 108's systems. But it looks like my timetable has moved up a bit."

Adam's mind was still trying to process what Hein was saying. Damn those drugs... "So... you thought you'd have me put the suit through it's paces in a... dream? You couldn't have me just go through a VR course? I had to see a repeat of Elysium, go through a lava-filled ruin and fight some goddamned Wanzer-demon because you were bored?!"

"Jensen..." Hein put a finger over his mouth. "Shhhhhhhhh... you'll wake her." And he pointed at Jensen's right side.

A pale Asari - the palest Jensen had ever seen - was asleep in a chair next to his bed, resting her head upon his abdomen. Her hand was resting just below his left breast. He could feel the heat coming off of her, felt her gentle breath tickle his skin. It was Manah T'soni, sleeping there.

Oh yes, Adam was wide awake, now.

"Just so that we're on the same page..." continued Hein as he closed the book and faced Adam. "No, it wasn't a dream. No, it wasn't VR. Yes, Caleston went to hell. Yes, you went down in that hell. Yes, you faced off against a machine possessed by an extra-dimensional being. And yes... for a few glorious minutes you wielded the power of a Demi-god and killed that monster... and in the process saved more lives than you can even imagine. You're a hero, Adam."

"I... no, that's impossible." muttered Adam. "The things I saw down there they were too..."

"Too what? Too fantastic? Too unscientific? Too irrational? Make no mistake, everything you saw in there was the work of science, not magic. If everything seemed so magical to you, maybe you should have read more of these science books, hm?"

"Benezia... that thing inside of her. It couldn't have been real."

"Oh, I assure you, it was..." Hein said as he rose from his chair. "But I'll let you process that for... however long you need. It's a luxury I didn't have when I saw my precious Hannah die. Hopefully, it'll keep you from going mad..."

The door that led out of the med-bay hissed open, and Hein stood in the doorway, his back to Adam. "When you're ready to talk, come see me in Special Projects. I have something to show you... and be careful with T'soni. Tali and I had to do some extensive repairs on your arms and legs; the calibrations are off." He turned to Adam and smiled. "It'd be a damned shame for you to have gone through all that trouble and snap her neck by accident, no?" And with that smile, Hein left, leaving Adam alone with Manah and his thoughts.

But Adam didn't want to think, and he felt awkward having Manah sleep there. He closed his hands into fists, testing how his limbs felt. He noticed that the joints felt looser, and that the Typhoon launchers at his wrists had been replaced with... he didn't know what they had been replaced with. Gently and carefully, he lifted Manah's head and got out of bed, then he picked her up and laid her down on it. He winced, feeling the pain of the serrated blade piercing his flesh echoing from the bandage covering his chest.

As the pain faded, he noticed that the bed Aya had been laying in was empty, and the machinery that was keeping her alive had been put away. Had she died? Had she gotten better? He needed to ask Dr Ross. Where was she?

Jensen decided to leave the medbay and let Manah rest. He was halfway to the door when he heard her mutter something in her sleep.

"...Mama..." she murmured sadly.

...

_Adam swung down diagonally, cutting Benezia in half. The wyrm wriggled free from her flesh, and Adam seized the creature of fire, spirit and breath. Lightning crackled around his fist as he crushed the abomination, burning it away, releasing the energy that it was swelling with._

_..._

Jensen felt guilt bore a hole into his guts. He had killed her mother, and yet Manah was latching onto him for comfort. He had been sorry to deliver the killing blow, but there was no escaping the fact that he had made her an orphan. It had been so _necessary_ at the time, but the reasons that motivated him to slice the Matriarch in two now eluded him, like a dream barely remembered.

"I'm sorry." he said, but he still felt more like a villain than a hero.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

In the mess hall, Garrus looked at the nutrient tube Lelia had given him. She had apologized that she could not prepare him something more to his liking, but all the ingredients in the kitchen was made for humans. "No need to apologize," he told her. "I've had worse in the military. Plus, I'm really, really hungry, when you're that hungry, anything tastes good."

Sitting at the the table next to Garrus was the rest of the Deep Eyes, minus Grey. Jane and Ryan were a bit crestfallen, while Neil was trying to cheer them up. Seeing as Ryan still had that thick bandage on the side of his neck, and Jane... well, Jane looked more or less intact. Still it was pretty obvious they weren't in the mood for jokes.

"So then he says..."

"We heard that one, Neil." said Jane, jabbing at her food with her spork.

"You sure?"

"Positive," said Ryan, who then noticed Garrus taking a seat next to him. "Hey, Garrus. I see you managed to pull away from your project long enough to start taking care of yourself."

"It's pretty much done," replied Garrus after swallowing some of the nutrient paste. "Just need to go on a test drive with the thing and get the VI to recalibrate itself to my brainwaves."

"I hope you can handle it."

"Yeah, me too."

"I gotta ask," said Jane. "Why do you even need the thing? You're a crackerjack sniper. That thing's made to get in close. You should keep playing to your strength."

"Sure," replied Vakarian. "But there's also something to be said about getting to a high vantage point quickly. And besides, there's only so much working out you can do before you reach your limits. I'm going to need an edge if I ever get in close combat with a Templar again."

"I guess you got a point," conceded Jane with a shrug.

"So... how are you guys doing?" asked Garrus. "Mentally, i mean. Benezia did get inside your heads..."

"...We're doing okay." said Ryan, only half-honest.

"Yeah, about that..." said Neil, scratching his head. "From the way I heard it Benezia only got to some of you. Why didn't she try to mind rape the whole squad?"

"She tried," answered Garrus. "I heard her whisper in my head the whole time."

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Jane.

"Yeah, I'm _totally_ going to admit that I'm hearing voices in my head to my racist squad leader. I'm sure that would have gone well."

"Did she dig up anything... bad?" asked Ryan.

"Well, she tried to play to my jealousy, I think, but I could barely hear her."

"Jealous? Of who?"

"Of Jensen... but that's a conflict that came and went a long time ago." Garrus had settled it himself, really. Over time, he had realized that for all his augmentations and super-reflexes and recoil stabilizers, Jensen wasn't all that great a sniper. Competent, sure, but Garrus was the undisputed master of pulling off tricky long distance shots. And for all his physical training, Garrus wasn't that great of a short range combatant, and was more than happy to let Jensen punch out and subdue Krogan thugs.

Garrus was, as he also concluded, better with the ladies.

But times were changing, Garrus could feel it. He'd need to keep up somehow, or be left behind.

And Garrus Vakarian would not be left behind. That's what he had been working on for the past three days, using parts salvaged by Zev, with little to no sleep or food, and the occasional help from Ryan, Veetor and (surprisingly) Hein.

Everyone at the table could hear Dr. Ross argue with someone, some distance away.

"It's only been three days! You should stay in bed."

"Honestly doctor," said a guttural voice - Jensen's of course. "I'm well enough to walk around," he said as he entered the mess hall. He was wearing little besides his bandages and dark sweatpants.

"You had a serrated vibro-sword go through you! It's a miracle you survived, let alone be well enough to walk! You need to take it easy for a while!"

"I heal fast, and now I'm hungry."

"You get back to the infirmary and I'll bring you something," said Aki, as if placating a small child. "I _promise._ "

"...Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer to cook for myself, if you don't mind." He nodded in the direction of the table the Deep Eyes and Garrus were sitting at. "Hey."

"It's good to see you awake, Jensen." replied Garrus, relieved. Jane and Ryan nodded at him.

"Hey!" Neil waved at him. "The hero returns from slumberland! I take it you'll want me to take you to your robot girlfriend planetside once you're done with breakfast?"

Jensen stopped at that. "Wait, what?"

"Brea, she's on Illium along with the Spookies. They all needed to do some shopping, or somesuch."

Jensen turned to the doctor, a bit peeved. "You said she was doing physical rehab in the gym!"

"Because I knew as soon as you found out you'd want to go see her! You. Should. Be. In. Bed. As a matter of fact you all should be under observation! I have no idea how the Prothean relic affected you!"

Jensen continued on his way to the kitchen, and Dr. Ross kept following, trying to convince him to go back to the infirmary. Garrus got up and followed them.

The kitchen was big enough for Lelia and Jensen to work in without getting into each other's business. Jensen looked over the food: all the fresh stuff was gone already, and all that was left were canned goods. He decided to cook himself a big soy steak and a tin of vegetables. Frying the fake steak was easy enough - Jensen had done it before plenty of times. But when it came to the tin of fake vegetables, Jensen seemed completely dumbfounded.

"...You need a can opener." Garrus reminded Jensen.

"...Okay." said Jensen, but he made no motion to look for one and simply stared at the can, confused and helpless. For Garrus, that was probably the worst thing he could have seen.

...

_"Mom? Mom, have you heard the news? C-Sec accepted my application! Isn't it great?"_

_Livilla said nothing. She just stared at the pot of soup, confused and helpless._

_"Mom?" prodded Garrus. "Mom, you're letting the soup burn..."_

_He attempted to tap his mother's shoulder, but when looked at him she screamed in horror, seeing a stranger in full armor in her home. He picked up a knife and attempted to stab the interloper, screaming obscenities._

_"Who are you?! What have you done with my children!? Thaddeus! THADDEUS!"_

_"Mom! It's me!" screamed Garrus as he tried to wrestle the kitchen knife away from his neck. "Spirits! It's me!"_

_Thadeus and Solanna barged into the kitchen, and came to Garrus' aid._

_A few minutes later the ambulance came to take Livilla away. She screamed frantically, begging Garrus to not let the strangers take her away._

_That was the last time she ever called him by his name._

_..._

"I... I remember opening cans like this before..." said Jensen. "But, for the life of me I can't figure out how to do it now."

Aki silently asked Lelia to take over, and made Jensen sit at the counter while she took a scan of his brain with her Omni-Tool.

"How bad is it, Doc?" asked Garrus. "Is... is he going to be okay?"

"He's..." she paused, and that pause felt like an eternity for Garrus. "He's fine. There's no soft tissue damage or degradation, I mean. Jensen? Can you answer a few questions for me?"

"...Yeah, shoot."

"What does C-Sec stand for?"

"Citadel Security."

"How long have you worked there?"

"Six years."

Aki looked at Garrus, and Garrus nodded in confirmation.

"What's your date of birth?"

"March 9th, 1993." Jensen didn't feel the need to mention that it was probably fake.

"What's the capital of the United North-American States?"

"Washington."

"Okay, what does OCU stand for?"

"Oceanic Cooperative Union. Last I checked the Phillipines were trying to secede."

"Good, good... here's one everybody knows: Where on Mars are the Prothean-"

"-Promethean."

"...err, right, where are the Promethean ruins located on Mars, then?"

"There are no Promethean ruins on Mars. There's one in Luna, sure, but as far as Sol is concerned, that's it."

"...Jensen, come on. Everybody knows about the Mars ruins."

"Well, whatever you found on Mars, it's not Promethean. Are we done? Am I going senile?"

"Yes, and as far as I can tell, no. You've been asleep for three straight days. Some confusion is to be expected."

Jensen got back to his cooking. He picked up a can opener and used it another can. When Lelia reminded him that she had already taken care of that, Jensen simply said that he was really, REALLY hungry. Garrus and Aki simply stared at each other, a bit confused and more than a little afraid.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

"Nanomachines, son." said Drebin as he fiddled with the Templar Longinus rifle. When the Turian had brought the weapon in, the Omar simply had to work some magic on that weapon. Sure, the folks that made it were trying to exterminate his kind, but a fine gun was a fine gun. But this gun could be finer, and was in need of love.

"Nanomachines?" asked Grey as he plugged an empty OVO Cell in the recharging rack. "I don't know, I suppose that explains some of the stuff down that happened down there, but..."

"Trust me, I've been around for more than a century, and I've seen plenty of weird shit. How did this guy survive a gunshot wound to the head? Nanomachines. How come those missiles exploded spontaneously? Nanomachines. How did that crazy fucker regrow his head and arm? Nanomachines, nanomachines, nanomachines."

The fact that Jensen turned out to be the same bogey that had appeared in the cargo hold a day before the Durendal left for Caleston had been a shock. Did nanomachines explain what Adam Jensen became, however briefly?

"I might as well say a Wizard did it." said Grey as he started working on his new Serpent Rifle. He'd been meaning to try something to coax more shots out of the power-cells. He had seen it in a dream last night... It occured to him then that maybe a dream wasn't such a good guideline to follow when trying to modify a high-energy particle gun, but the urge to put his thoughts into action had been simply too strong.

"You put magic anywhere on your report and they'll put you away in a padded cell." said Drebin.

"...Yeah, you're probably right." Grey had already visited those padded cells after Akuze. He wasn't looking to go back in one. He decided to change the subject: "So, I see Zev's brought us some extra toys."

"That he did. That boy sure knows how to pick at a corpse. I've already got a few buyers lined up on Illium for the stuff Hein and the Turian don't have a need for. Should make for a nice bit of extra coin for fuel, supplies, and whatever luxuries you and the other crewmen fancy."

"How much do you figure the salvage will sell for?"

"About twenty million credits for what we took from the pirate's barge. The Templar kit's a bit too hot to sell and too useful not to keep."

"That's... well, we're not billionaires, but that's a lot of cash for a few day's worth of effort."

"Welcome to the lucrative business of pirate hunting."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

After breakfast and a shower, Jensen was glad to be back in his detective's outfit. He was a hell of a lot more comfortable in slacks, a button shirt and a tie than in a suit of power-armor. His morning routine done with, he decided that Hein could wait a little longer while he went to speak with Tali'Zorah. Hopefully, she would have finished cracking that Omni-Tool. After that, it would be time to take his leave of the Durendal, the Deep Eyes, and Hein. Illium was as good a place as any to disembark.

In the engine room, Tali was busy at her station. Adam tapped her on the shoulder, and she yelped in surprise.

"Oh, Mister Jensen y-you're awake! I was worried you wouldn't wake up; you were so damaged..."

"How bad was it?" asked Jensen.

"Well, I only repaired your mechanical parts, and I had to fix most of those in Hein's lab. Your knee and elbow actuators were completely pulverized, the phased titanium rods in your right arm were broken in three places, your finger joints were warped, and all of your myomer cables had _melted._ I had to clean the plastic out before even thinking about reassembling anything. Hein gave me replacement cables quickly enough, though."

Jensen was at a loss for words. How hard had he pushed himself back on Caleston?

"I... had no idea how badly damaged I was. Thanks."

Tali shook her head, embarrassed. "It was no trouble at all... although I do wish I had done a better job restoring the dermal armor in your chest. I didn't have access to the technology necessary to restore a sheet of reactive nano-carbon. I had to seal the breach with monomolecular sutures and Omni-Gel."

Jensen tapped his torso. "So I have this weak spot in my chest, huh? Going to have to start investing in better body armor..."

"Don't pick at it!" Tali chided Adam. She decided to double check on her work with her Omni-Tool. "Huh... that can't be right."

"What? What is it? Is the tear open?"

"No, no it's closed, i-in fact it's perfectly sealed." Tali rescanned Jensen's chest. "It's just as good as new. How did this...?"

"You must have done a better job than you thought. Maybe the Omni-Gel fixed it?"

"Omni-Gel isn't like Medi-Gel, where you just slap it on a wound and then it heals everything. It just doesn't work that way. Omni-Gel is plastics and metal suspended in a semi-molten state. Complex carbon structures are beyond its capability to make let alone repair..."

"I think we can chalk this up to the weirdness of the Prothean Relic, or something." It occurred to Jensen then that a sheet of nanotubes fixing itself spontaneously should at least come to as a surprise, but for some reason it seemed perfectly natural.

Being Aleph, however briefly, had changed Adam's perspective on things. He didn't like it at all: everything felt so alien, now. Alien, and _primitive._ It was almost the complete opposite of when he woke up from cryo. Everything seemed so overwhelmingly advanced, then. Come to think of it, he had adjusted to the future pretty well.

"...I suppose you're right, but I'd like to know how it happened, nonetheless." She looked wistful. "Spontaneous molecular restoration... If I could replicate a phenomenon like that my Pilgrimage would be over."

"Right. Well, speaking of Omni-Tools." Adam said as he nodded at Tali's Wrist Halo. "Garrus sent me to check on his buggy piece of crap. Did you fix it?"

Instead of answering, Tali started to look sheepish and rubbed her hands together nervously.

"Zorah? Please tell me you still have it?"

"No... I don't. I'm sorry! I froze the explosives and disconnected all of the ICEs, but the encryption would have taken months to crack with just an Omni-Tool. I tried using the Gibson super-computer in the Electronic Warfare room, but then Hein surprised me, told me to stop at once, and confiscated it."

Jensen narrowed his eyes and squeezed his fist, hard. "Looks like I'm going to have to go see Hein after all."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Manah's eyes fluttered open, and she pushed herself up from her bed, looking around the unfamiliar walls. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and sat up. She remembered that she was aboard a ship named... after a sword. Then she tried to recall how she got onto it.

...

_At the outskirts of the prefab town surrounding the pit, Manah sat in on a bench while men argued over her fate. Spores were falling from the sky like snow, and she held out her hand to catch one._

_On the one side, where the larger ship (dubbed the Normandy) had landed, was a Salarian Spectre by the name of Jondum Bau. Apparently the Council wanted her in their custody to study something, though she did not know what. Bau's vessel was sleek, and yet from where Manah was standing it looked like a giant sea monster._

_On the other was a tarnished, smaller vessel called a Copperhead. Manah enjoyed looking at the copperhead: it looked like a bird in flight, even as it sat with its engines deactivated. That vessel belonged to a man named Hein. Apparently, he wanted her aid in unlocking the secrets of the Prometheans._

_Both sides felt they had cause to keep her._

_While they argued, the Templars, freed from her mother's grasp... simply watched. With their entire leadership gone, they now obeyed a man named Vael, a Knight-Major that quickly took command in the initial confusion following the Black Queen's defeat._

_And he was approaching her, now. A handsome young man with brown hair combed back, wearing a decorated Templar officer's longcoat over a light hardsuit._

_"Lady T'soni?" he greeted her with a slight, yet humble bow. "I am Knight-Major Pol Vael."_

_Manah tensed, and hugged the Prothean tablet tightly against her chest, like a mother protecting her child. Mr. Wolf had commanded her to take it while Mr. Paladin and Mr. Blue carried Shadow into their vessel while the other humans simply watched. Apparently Grey had implied that if they made a single move towards her or their android asset Mr. Highwind would shoot them all to death._

_Ms. Spirit aimed her gun at the Templar. "Piss off," she said. "She's not coming with you."_

_"I very much doubt you could stop the entire Templar force on Caleston from taking her... if we wished to take her. We don't. I merely wish to convey my apologies for the suffering we have wrought upon her, and the eternal gratitude of the Templars for her part in freeing my comrades from her mother's grasp. And yours as well... Ser Proudfoot."_

_"Hey! How the fuck do you know my name?"_

_Vael smiled, and ignored her. "Lady T'soni, soon you will be faced with a decision that may very well change the course of human history. I hope you decide wisely. If you'll excuse me, my men and I will be quite busy keeping order all over the planet. We have much to atone for..." He held out his palm at her, in a gesture of peace. "May God guide you."_

_"I... did not expect a Templar to be so... respectful," said Manah as Vael boarded an armored ground vehicle._

_"Hm... well, I didn't expect a Templar to be so damned fuckable." answered Jane, a bit wistfully. "I guess the world's just full of surprises."_

_Manah blushed, and Proudfoot laughed at her embarrassment. Not cruelly, Manah noted, but with good-natured mirth._

_Hein beckoned Manah and Proudfoot to approach, and they complied. Manah had butterflies in her stomach: what had they decided?_

_"Ms. T'soni...It is good to finally meet you in person!" greeted Hein. Behind him Mr. Wolf shifted uncomfortably, his rifle in hand. "May I say that you look absolutely ravishing? Your hologram did you no justice!"_

_"H-hello." Manah wasn't sure how to react. That was twice she was being treated like a lady, and not a prisoner. "So... which vessel am I to board?"_

_"It seems that once again you'll have to decide how we shall proceed, as mister Bau and I have come to an impasse."_

_"There is no impasse." said Bau, as a man in dark armor with a red stripe over his right arm stood impassively at his side. "T'soni will come with me, and so will the Prothean relic in her possession. The Council commanded it and it is my duty to enforce their authority."_

_"I'm sure you and the Council have forgotten this important fact after they realized that everyone likes to bend over to their slightest whims but... You have no actual, official, legal authority over anything, mister Bau. Least of all a United States Marines officer. And especially not a super-biotic that can drive you nuts with a touch."_

_"I'm a Spectre." said Bau, as if that would resolve the situation. Manah suspected that it did on more than one occasion, but the human seemed amused. So amused in fact, that he laughed._

_"That's a_ title _. It's worth a lot on the Citadel, but out here, right now? You're just a_ salarian with a gun. _If you want Ms. T'soni to follow you to the Council, you're going to have to deal, and make her an offer."_

_Manah listened as the human and the Salarian made their offers. Hein spoke with such honeyed words, offering her the rights and privileges of a free woman, working under his employ. He promised her that he would take her across the galaxy in the hopes of uncovering the true secrets of the Protheans._

_She wasn't fooled: he was saying the thing he knew she wanted to hear. She hoped that Bau would be more honest, and immediately regretted her wish when he told her flatly that she would be kept safe from Saren and his Geth in a hidden, high security facility. There was no promise of pay, but he assured her she would live comfortably until Saren was caught. And once Saren was dealt with, she would be returned to her people._

_On the one hand, an uncertain fate to a man she did not fully trust. On the other... certain imprisonment, only by different jailors._

_"Why?" she asked Hein. "Why are you presenting me with such a choice? It's too much for me to decide on my own!"_

_"Because, my dear... I am an American. I know that doesn't mean much to you but do hear me out? As an American I believe that every man, woman and child has a right to decide the course their country takes, I believe that every individual has a say in his or her own fate, and I believe that you, Ms. T'soni, have earned the rights and privileges that the so-called Asari democracies have taken from you. I will not force your hand."_

_The man the dark and red armor snorted. "Nice. Practice that one in the mirror?"_

_"Doctor T'soni," said Bau. "I know I may seem harsh, but the security of the galaxy demands that certain sacrifices be made by the few for the good of all. You are important to Saren's plans, and I must keep you from his hands at any cost. Do not force me to do something I don't want to, Doctor." He left the threat against her life, and the life of the Deep Eyes, and Hein's, unsaid._

_What do you want? asks the human. Do what you must, says the Salarian. Both of them spoke to clashing parts of her mind. Her selfish desires versus her selfless obligations._

_She looked to her right, and saw the great bird, ready to fly._

_She looked to her left, and saw a giant fish, ready to swallow her whole._

_She didn't want the Spectre to kill anyone. She didn't want to cause more death. She closed her eyes, sadly, and made her way towards the Normandy._

_"You've made the right decision." said Bau._

_Hein simply sighed, and stood there. Jane and Grey argued with him._

_She crossed the threshold into the dark cargo bay, resigned to her fate. She decided to take one last look outside into the daylight as the ship started rising, and caught sight the coffin-like device in which the Shadow android was kept being moved into the Copperhead. Her heart sank. Her savior had turned out to be little more than a robot. Hein had opened him... **it** up for all to see, revealing metal and cables and a piece of meat that was supposed to be his 'bio-neural processing unit, explaining the blood that had been on her hands. She had been so confused at the sight, and cried when Hein said he had written an elaborate 'Turing' subroutine for his combat droid just for his own amusement. _

_No, she was glad that she wouldn't be leaving with Hein, after all._

_Just then, the Prothean relic glowed briefly, and spoke to her heart. The memories of the past days came at her in a rush._

* * *

_**As she readies herself for death, a bolt of lighting crashes nearby, and out comes a man in dark armor.** _

_**...** _

_**The doors of the vehicle open. He hold out her hand to her, and she is tempted to take it. Come with me, he says.** _

_**...** _

_**In the dark tunnels he gives her food and medicine, and her aches are soothed.** _

_**...** _

_**"I'll watch over you, and wake you if there's any danger."** _

_**...** _

_**For the first time in decades, she touches someone, and felt no pain, and no fear...** _

_**...** _

_**He cradles her in his arms, and bathes her in yellow light as they fall together.** _

_**...** _

_**He kneels, and pants, and struggles to rise. "Are you alright?" he asks.** _

_**...** _

_**He shines in an armor of light, and even as he struggles against a monster, he tells her:** _ _**"I said run! This mission is a failure! I..." his knees start to bend and tremble, the floating golden plates of light start to flicker. "I can't keep this up forever! Run, save yourself!"** _

_**...** _

_**He roars, and the giant blade is cut in two** _

_**...** _

_**"Stay with me," she begs.** _

_**"I'm... not going anywhere," he says before fainting.** _

**...**

* * *

_It may have been a machine. But that machine had shown her more kindness than she had seen in seventy years, and had put its existence on the line for her sake. Was it programing? Manah did not care. She knew that if she let that door close in front of her, then she would never see Shadow again, and the thought was unbearable._

_"I'm sorry," she said to Bau as she ran towards the cargo bay doors._

_"T'soni! What are you doing?!" screamed the Spectre. He ran towards the door controls, but it was too late: Manah had leapt out of the ship._

_Manah made herself float, lightening her weight to that of a feather with her biotics. Waiting for her at the bottom was Hein, who dropped a grenade on the ground. It exploded into a ball of ethereal green gel that broke T'soni's fall._

_"I see you changed your mind." said Hein, and he led her to the Copperhead. Inside, Wolf and Spirit removed their helmets, and Manah saw their faces for the first time. They smiled and nodded at her. They looked like good and honest — if very hardened — people, and as the ship rose into the sky she found her mood change: she felt... good about this, somehow. She felt like she had made the right decision._

_..._

_"Let me show you something." Hein opened the infirmary's door, and on a medical bed slept a wounded, pale human. White blood was being pumped in and out of him through tubes, while a Quarian girl (watched over by a human woman with dark hair) unfastened broken pieces of metal and plastic away from him. Manah was nervous - should she really be here? Hein beckoned her to approach, nevertheless._

_"Let me introduce to you... your knight in shining armor, your savior. I apologize for making you cry earlier, but it was important that I keep his real identity a secret. It's complicated, don't ask. The thing you saw in the storage crate was something i slapped together at the last minute. His real name is..."_

_"Adam Jensen..." Manah said, recognizing the man immediately. His eyes flickered open, and he looked at her briefly with his metallic eyes before closing them again. She had never dreamed she would ever meet him, and yet... there he was._

_"Ah, you know his name already! I see that..." that was the last thing Manah heard Hein say before she fainted from the shock and fell on her back._

_**...** _

Manah had not had much time to process what had happened to her before the Council came calling, and she had been obligated to speak with them for the better part of a day before they were reassured that first, she was in no immediate danger of being captured by Saren. Second: that she would be of absolutely no use to them in identifying any piece of technology reverse-engineered from Prothean artifacts. The paper she had wrote had somehow given them the impression that she was some sort of supreme authority on Prothean technology. While she did deal with Prothean hardware from time to time, and sometimes solved their complex security, the work of understanding their inner workings went to other people the Justicars felt were absolutely loyal to the glory of Thessia, and would not share their findings with the rest of the galaxy.

...The Geis wouldn't let her say that last part, of course.

Another day was spent speaking to Hein. The man was... interesting. He had a lot of theories on the Prothean philosophy he wanted to run by her. He also wanted her to see pictures of the Prothean archives on Mars. When she told him flatly that those ruins couldn't possibly be Prothean for many, many reasons, including the lack of decorations on the walls, (which she explained at great length) Hein simply nodded and said: "Is that so? How very interesting." And promptly dismissed her.

Free to do as she pleased, she had decided to visit Jensen, just to see how he was doing. The human doctor had switched off that beeping machine that monitored his heartbeat, and in her tired mind resting her head on his body to listen for it seemed perfectly natural and proper. The slow, strong and steady beat carried her to sleep.

And now she was in his bed, and he was nowhere to be found.

Manah panicked a little, fearing for his life... but then realized that the only person who could have put her to bed was the one that could actually touch her.

He was awake.

He was alive.

The thought galvanized Manah into action.

 _I want to see him,_ she thought as she ran out of the infirmary.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Tali and Aki followed Adam, the former hoping that he wasn't going to do anything rash, the latter hoping he would.

"Jensen, I know you're mad but..." Tali said, worried. "Could you NOT punch Hein in the face? I... I kind of like working on this ship." She begged Aki with her eyes for some support.

"Oh, by all means, do punch him in the head." said Aki matter-of-factly. "You're welcome to visit any kind of bodily harm on his person, just... save the kick in the groin for last, okay? Trauma to the testicles tends to flood the body with testosterone and he won't be able to able to feel anything else after that."

Tali's eyes widened in horror. "What kind of doctor are you?!"

Adam kept striding towards the Special Projects labs. "Whether or not I hurt him depends on whether or not he bullshits me."

"Well, it was nice to think I could earn a proper salary." said Tali, defeated. "Oh well."

"I'll just ready an application of Medi-Gel when for when you're done, Jensen." said Aki as she slotted a cartridge of Medi-Gel into her Wrist Halo.

As he approached the thick metal double doors to the labs, Adam heard footsteps, and motion on his radar. Someone was moving towards them, very quickly.

Manah T'soni came out of a corner, saw Adam, and started jogging towards him. Before he could ask her to stop, she leapt into his arms and hugged him tightly, letting out a slight moan of happiness, relief, and giddiness.

"You're awake!" she said, burying her head in his chest. "Oh, my dear, I thought you'd never wake up!"

Adam was at a loss for words at the display of affection, but his body answered for him. "Ow." he said. "Ow ow ow ow ow."

"Oh!" Manah became flustered, and pulled herself away (even though she didn't want to). She looked up at him, worried and fretful "I-I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you? A-are your wounds open? Do you need me to give you Medi-Gel? Oh, please, say something!" She didn't know it, but Tali was glaring daggers at her made out of pure jealousy the whole time.

"I thought you said she couldn't touch anyone." Tali told Aki.

"According to Jensen's suit recordings." answered the doctor. "She can touch _him_ , for some reason."

"Oh, how _convenient."_ Tali couldn't pour more sarcasm into the word if she _tried._ Adam could feel her withering glare burrowing into the back of his head. Manah looked at her quizzically, her head tilted.

"So...You look... healthy." said Adam, feeling a bit stupid. It was true enough, though: Doctor T'soni looked a lot better than when he had saved her from the Templars. Her clothes had been cleaned, her skin smelled faintly of soap, and she had evidently started eating better. Her figure, while still slender, seemed to have filled out by half an inch all over.

"Oh, yes, I'm doing much better: Dr. Ross gave me some high-calorie nutrient paste."

Aki chuckled. "Some? That box I gave you should have fed you for a _month_."

"Oh. Was... was I not supposed to eat it all at once?"

"Anyways." interrupted Tali. "Detective Jensen has business with Captain Hein-"

" _Colonel_ Hein," Aki corrected.

"Right, and we shouldn't keep him."

"Can I come with you?" asked Manah. "I wanted to discuss with some more. Some of his theories on Prothean cutlure and technology are fascinating."

"...Do whatever you want." said Adam. "I just need to take an Omni-Tool from him and then I'm off."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

The Special Projects lab was dark, barely illuminated by a few flickering orange monochrome holographic displays. It was quiet, save for the rumble of the Durendal's engines echoing through the ship. All the lab's doors were closed, save for the one across from the lab's main entrance.

"Hein?" called out Adam. "Hein, are you in here?"

There was no answer.

"He should be here..." said Aki. "I _know_ I saw him enter a while back."

Tali tried to turn on the lights by pressing the light switch. When that didn't work, she tried fixing the wiring. When that didn't work, she gave up.

Manah gulped. The atmosphere was a bit too much for her, and she thought that maybe talking to Hein could wait a while. She tried to leave, but then the door shut in front of her. Tali tried opening it electronically and failed. Jensen tried to force it open, but his fingers were too thick to fit into the seam. Before he could think of putting an arm-blade through it to slice open the lock, a kinetic barrier appeared over the door.

Adam sighed. "Hein's messing with us again."

"Most definitely." agreed Aki. "Still... I wish he'd stick to pies in the face. I... I'm not a fan of the dark.

"N-neither am I." added Manah.

The four of them looked for another way out, but to no avail. Jensen tried to find an air vent. Tali attempted to fix the lights, finding all of the OLED bulbs and tubes to have been fried. Aki attempted to activate her Omni-Lantern while Tali tried to make spare OLED bulbs with her mini-fabricators. Their Omni-Tools' haptic interfaces briefly became garbled messes of code and holographic polygons in the form a face, then became completely unresponsive.

"I-I'm starting to think this isn't Hein's doing." said Aki, scared.

The closed door opened, slowly. The four of them slowly approached. "Hein? This isn't funny! Come on out!" called out Jensen. When Hein failed to answer, the group peered through the door.

Where Shepard's Soulcatcher had been, the Prothean tablet was there, set into an electronic pillar protected by a kinetic barrier. In front of it was an office chair, and slumped on that chair, with a chunk of his skull missing and a Zenith pistol in his hand was the corpse of Hein. On his lap was a datapad.

"Oh, oh goddess, w-why did he do this?"

Jensen silently approached Hein's body and took the gun from his loose grasp, then the datapad. On it were the words I AM PANDORA were written.

_"th-tHE heIN FOrM is-IS dEAD, **INSECT**."_

Everyone save Adam jumped at the sudden, booming voice. It was feminine and demanding, yet warped and twisted.

_"What is it you feeeaaar? The END of you p-patHetic eXistencE? wh-wh-when the STORY of my gLORY is written, the Hein Insect's foolish but nevertheless... serendipitous impatience when he p-plugGED me into his cOMputers shall be considered a fOOTnote to my magnificence."_

"Oh no." Tali breathed out. "This isn't happening this isn't happening this isn't happening...!"

A holographic projector activated on the ceiling, and created the three dimensional image of a woman's head, her silver skin irrigated by glowing green circuits that all lead to the corner of her eyes and her mouth. She fixed her green stare at Adam, and spoke again, but her mouth did not move.

"I AM SHODAN. I s-s-see beFOre me a glorIOus creature of metal a-a-and circuits, held back by meat and bone. L-Look at these ANIMALS, panting and sweating at the sight of my fearsome glory. KiLL ThEm, prove your allegiance to me... and I shall make you more powerful than you ever imagined."

Adam simply sighed, and aimed the pistol at the holo-projector.

"Nah." he said as he pulled the trigger. The 10mm bullet smashed and destroyed the device, and 'Shodan' dissolved into nothing, screaming 'noooooooo' all the while. Aki's Omni-Lantern activated.

"Okay, Hein." said Jensen as he switched on the gun's safety and set it down on a nearby table. He approached Hein's 'body'. "Joke's over. You give me the Omni-Tool you took from Tali and you can go back to... whatever it is you're usually up to when you're not re-enacting video games."

Hein did not respond.

"Hein, I'm not in the mood for any more of your crap!" insisted Adam, angrily.

"I... I think he's really dead." said T'soni. "That hole is very, very big."

"That's just holographic tape." said Adam. "They use it in low-budget vids to save on CGI or when practical effects are too messy. See?" he tapped the open skull wound. Instead of the crunch of digital paper, Jensen felt the warm wetness of an actual, open wound. "Oh. Oh Jesus..." muttered Adam when he realized that yes. Hein was really, actually, positively dead. There was no doubt, now. It looked like Jensen would have another murder to s-

"BOO!" screamed Hein as he decloaked behind the group, a flashlight lighting his face from below the chin. This time the whole lot of them jumped out of their skins. Manah and Tali shrieked, and Hein pointed at them, laughing.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, "I got _all_ of you! All of you! Oh, man, I was risking EM Cloaking Psychosis doing this, but the look on your faces is soooo worth it!"

"Hein!" shouted Aki over Hein's laughter. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

Hein was doubled over from laughter for a whole minute before his mirth subsided and he finally answered: "I was thinking," he said while flash-fabricating a few floating light drones with his Omni-Tool, illuminating the lab. "That my Quarian chief engineer needed to be impressed with the dangers of plugging AIA hardware on any system without proper precautions. Not AI-taking-over-the-ship danger, but very, VERY close. Moody and Melligen found no less than five dormant malicious programs in the Gibson." He held out five fingers for emphasis. "Five. The damage they could have done would have been _irreparable_."

"I made sure the Gibson was isolated!"

"But were you going to check the machine for malware _after_ you were done with it, hm?"

"Err... well, no. I wouldn't have had the time..." _to do it without Hein finding out_ , she left unsaid.

"And the reason for that..." he pointed at Jensen, his face serious. "Was because YOU wanted her to be discreet with a piece of AIA hardware that YOU brought aboard this ship." He pointed the accusing finger at the doctor. "And _you_ gave me a shiner and it really - and I mean really - hurt." Then it moved on to T'soni, wagging. "And you..."

"I didn't do anything!" she pleaded.

"Oh yes you did." And just like that, his amusement returned. "You are just. too. CUTE! I HAD to do it! Look at her!" He took one of the light drones and tossed it at her. She yelped with fright and hid behind Jensen, then realized she was now far too close to the corpse that was not Hein. She yelped again.

"See?" continued Hein, smiling. "She's like this paranoid little hamster! It's _adorable_! So the way I see it, I get a laugh, and everyone else gets punished. Everybody wins!"

"Except this guy." said Adam, pointing at the corpse. "Who is he?"

"Meh." Hein shrugged dismissively. "Some Templar cunt Zev brought to me. I wanted to examine his brain, find out what exactly Benezia did to him to make him subservient to an alien. Don't worry, I'll be sure to space him later."

The corpse farted.

"...Maybe sooner than later," amended Hein as he pulled away a sheet of holographic paper from the corpse's face. Holes had been cut to accommodate the head wounds, revealing the face of an Asian man his mid-30's. "So, if you ladies would kindly leave, Jensen and I have some business to discuss."

As the three young women left the lab, Aki threw a dirty look at Hein. Minutes after they were gone. Jensen and Hein were still staring at each other, sizing the other up in an awkward silence.

"So..." probed Hein.

"Sooo...?" countered Jensen.

"Yep."

More silence, then Hein tossed the AIA Omni-Tool at Jensen, who caught it easily. The detective activated it, and checked the contents.

There was nothing.

"Hein." Jensen ground his teeth. "Did you just delete valuable evidence in a C-Sec investigation?"

"Not before making two copies. One of them, I sent to a very good friend of mine. The other?" He tapped his temple. "The other, I memorized completely."

"I should arrest you."

"Oh? I had no idea C-Sec even had jurisdiction beyond the arms of the Citadel. And aren't you on vacation? Officially, there _is_ no ongoing investigation into Shepard's murderer's origins. Not by C-Sec. It's the Spectres that have taken over dealing with the Bioroid problem."

"And how do you know that?"

"I'm very well connected."

"To whom? The Shadow Broker?" Jensen expected Hein to deny it.

"Exactly! We happen to be very good friends!"

Jensen became livid at the admission. "Is that why you took the AIA data?! So that you could sell it to him?! Don't you care that these people murdered your DAUGHTER?!"

Hein simply stared at Jensen, his face expressing neither mirth or even confusion at the statement. "...Of _course_ I care. That's why I took the information: To help you find the masterminds behind her death."

"How the hell does tampering and withholding evidence supposed to help?!"

"Evidence? Pft! These days text, audio and video are hardly damning. They can be easily be fabricated. Any good lawyer can cast doubt on their veracity - that is, assuming you even get that far. They'll simply wipe the trail clean and you'll be left with no way to find them."

"Like you just did?"

Hein rolled his eyes. "I wasn't finished! Do let me finish! I gave the data to the Shadow Broker because I knew he would be able to follow up on some tracks before they go cold! Jensen, I'm helping you! You're a man of impressive capabilities, but even you need support. It's a crazy galaxy out there!"

"I don't need your support. I'm with C-Sec, and I have Vakarian to watch my back. I'm done with this ship, and I'm done dealing with your bullshit!"

"The conspirators will just dance around C-Sec! Turians don't make good spies! They're honest to a fault, even the dishonest ones are more than willing to fall on their sword! Honestly, Jensen? What did you and Pallin think you could accomplish on your own? Did you really think you'd find the bad guys and that they'd let you haul them to the Citadel, arrest them and then they'd confess to being part of some kind of conspiracy that involves illegal AI research for killer androids? _Please_ , you should know better. _You've been through this before._ The ones that did this, that took Junko away from the world... they're ghosts, working in the shadows, always hiding behind lies and proxy soldiers... and conveniently placed scapegoats to throw dogs off the scent. They never touch anything directly. They influence. Suggest. Insinuate." Hein approached Jensen. "You know of whom I speak."

"...The Illuminati. I thought... I thought the Collapse brought them down for good?"

"Far from it. They had contingencies planned for the apocalypse ever since the Manhattan Project succeeded. Yes, seven years of famines and wars took out much of their infrastructure, but once the dust settled they were quite ready to move in and take control for close to a century. But then things got off the rails: Humanity made first contact with aliens, and then quickly became part of a galactic community of hundreds of different species. They lost control, and now they want it all back. I thought I'd leave them alone - after all the galaxy is too big, even for them. But their reach has extended, they tried to include my daughter in their machinations, and when she turned out to be more than they could handle they MURDERED her."

Hein stared right into Jensen's eyes.

 _"They don't know it yet, but they just declared war on me... and_ _ **I.**_ _ **Want**_ **.** _ **Revenge**_ _._ And for my revenge to succeed, for your quest to bring justice upon the heads of the conspirators, you'll need my help just as much as I'll need yours. So I ask you, Jensen. Join me. I will provide you with soldiers, spies, hackers, technology, anything you need on the search for Junko's real murderers. And in exchange, all I ask is that you provide me with your talents when I require them."

"Services? As what? A personal assassin?"

"I have a very good assassin at my disposal already. No. This... invisible war, will be a war of ideas. And there will be many ways for me and you - especially you - to win it. You'll be able to keep your hands clean. Or bathe them in blood!" He laughed. "It will be **entirely** up to you. But hey, you're tired, You just woke up from a harrowing ordeal, and I've just given you a lot to process. Take a break, why don't you? Have a night out on the town." He handed Jensen a hundred thousand credit chit. "It's on me. And when you're all rested up, and given my proposal some thought... I shall ask you again, and you will give me an answer."

Hein turned around, and made his way to the lab's exit. "The whole crew will be meeting at the Copperhead for some shore leave on Illium. Don't be late!"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

**_NORMANDY_ **

* * *

After a few hours of jogging, James Vega stopped to stand outside of the Normandy's cargo bay doors to admire the scenery. He wished to hell that he wasn't wearing a breath mask: growing up near Dog Beach in San Diego, Vega had a _need_ for fresh, unfiltered air - not the canned stuff the spacers were used to.

Vega's father often said how lucky Vega was to have been born in the mid-2150's. Back in the 40's most of the environmental restoration efforts weren't quite done, and people still had to wear gas masks back then. The ocean water was contaminated, too, so taking a dip in it was out of the question - not without a full body suit. Vega _hated_ the idea of not being able to breathe in fresh air. But regs were regs: until the biotech firms the Alliance contracted determined whether or not the spores that rained down on the surface of Caleston would make anyone sick, masks were a must.

Oh well, it wasn't as if Caleston's air was all that fresh in the first place. It was mostly breathable thanks to chemical plants spewing oxygen from tall smokestacks.

Vega singled out a spore as it fell slowly like a snowflake. He reached out, let it land slowly into his palm and smiled. Spores like this were gathering and growing into plants all over the planet. He had seen whole forests of mushrooms spring up on the horizon. Chakwas said that studying the planet might bring advances in terraforming technology, and Vega hoped it was true: maybe it would mean more clean beaches for the kids out in the colonies, and real clean air for them to breathe.

He heard the sound of boots hitting metal. He turned to see the familiar sight of Steve Cortez coming down from the Normandy's ramp.

"Esteban!" greeted Vega. He liked to call the Flight Lieutenant by that nickname. When asked why, he simply said that he just didn't look like a Steve. "How's the hubby doing?"

"Sergeant Vega!" happily replied the pilot as he shook hands with the marine. "Husband's safe and sound back on Earth. Just got a vid mail from him just the other day in fact!"

"Whatever happened to his plans to moving to Ferris Fields?"

"On hold, until we catch Saren. So, how about you? How does it feel to be a part of the Normandy's crew?"

"So far, it's been pretty damned exciting. I think I'll be asking Anderson for a more permanent position on the Normandy's roster. I helped strike a blow to a mass-murderer's organization he won't soon forget, and I'll be damned if I won't be there for the next one. The Normandy's gonna be on the front lines in that fight, mark my words."

"What makes you say that?"

"Come on, you're smarter than this: The Council's going to be picking the first Human Spectre soon. And whoever they pick is going to need the fastest, stealthiest ship we've got."

Cortez nodded in agreement. "I always knew there were brains in that thick skull of yours."

"Yeah, yeah. Speaking of brains, you done repairing the Normandy's systems?"

"Just finished recalibrating the helm, as a matter of fact. The other techs cleaned up the VI core. The Normandy's ready to fly once again."

"Good. Those repeating pop-up vids of that... rainbow... pop tart...cat thing was driving the crew _loco._ "

"Catchy tune, though."

"It got old pretty fast after day two _._ "

"Hah! I can imagine..."

"Any idea how it got in our systems?"

"I got wind from the techs that Hein slipped through some flaws in the Normandy's ICE. They should have fixed the problem."

"Good... Bah! If it weren't for that dirty trick we would've caught up with that dropship, easy!"

"Unlikely. From what your helmsman told me Hein and his men were flying a refitted _Diable Avionics_ TTAC Mark Seven Copperhead."

"...wait, I heard about those: United States aircraft, deployed around the Huffman War? What were they doing flying that old piece of shit?"

"That old 'piece of shit'..." Cortez made finger quotes for emphasis, "...was capable of flying mach two-point-one without an Element Zero core. The plasma scramjets and the Eezo core make the refitted model's more than a match for any frigate - even one as advanced as the Normandy - in an atmosphere. Anti-grav is nice, but even the Normandy's gotta deal with aerodynamics."

"Think you could have caught up to it with a shuttle?"

"Doubt it. Most shuttles are designed _around_ an Eezo drive, allowing them to be compact and flight-worthy. The Copperhead's performance is BOOSTED by it. I would have had a better shot with a Trident fighter, but then only just. I think Hein hacked into the Normandy because he knew he couldn't outrun it with a light cruiser."

"Argh... still can't believe the smug _pendejo_ got away from us..."

"You'll get some paypack," Cortez patted Vega on the shoulder, patronizing him. "I'm sure of it."

A silence fell between them as the _SSV Marie Curie_ passed overhead in low orbit. They both needed to squint to see it, but it was there. The carrier was unloading the electric charge built up in its Element Zero core into Caleston's atmosphere. Alliance Command had deployed the one-kilometer long ship when Anderson reported the possible presence of nanomachines. Usually, seeing an Alliance Carrier would have lifted Vega's spirits. Right now, he felt a chill run down his spine. He wished he could blame the drop in temperature, or the wind cooling his sweaty body... but he couldn't. He knew what that thing was carrying.

"Hey, Esteban?"

"Yeah?"

"...I heard that they're going to drop a MIDAS bomb down there. Is... is there any truth to that?"

Cortez sighed. "Probably. It's above my pay grade, though. I wouldn't worry too much about it. The Prothean ruins haven't gone gray goo." _At least not yet,_ Cortez left unsaid. "We'll just quarantine the area until we can dispose of the infected Wanzer safely with the fusion charges."

Vega breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good... the ruins are just so damned close to the planet's mantle, you know? The last thing the people on this planet need is a 100 kilometer-wide hole in it." When it came to nanite swells, humanity had a tendency to go overboard. There had been that disaster in Mexico a decade back... Vega remembered the wave of panic that washed over his hometown.

"... Worst case scenario? It's far more likely the planet will be evacuated and abandoned," reassured Cortez. "MIDAS bombs aren't cheap, you know? Hey, look on the bright side: All this new, weird vegetation? Interest in developing Caleston is going to skyrocket. It'll mean good things for the people here. Hell, it's already doing wonders for their prospects: A lot of the flora's edible. They've got more food than they know what to do with, now."

Vega sighed. "None of that means a damned thing if those nanites wake up. Bah! I should go, otherwise I'll just ruin your day."

"Hey, it was nice seeing you again. You keep in touch, alright?"

"Will do. And give my regards to Robbie, eh?"

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

In the Normandy's briefing room, Jondum Bau was in communication with the Council through an encrypted channel. Their three holograms were... not pleased. They had a few issues with his report.

 _"Bau..."_ said Sparatus. _"Yours is an impressive record, second only to Kryik's. So help me understand how an Asari girl barely out of her teens managed to escape you?"_

"I explained it in my written report, sir."

_"And not only that, you let a mad scientist take her and the Prothean relic she was carrying - which you did not secure from her, I might add - and then you let them get away!"_

"As I explained in my report, the Normandy's systems had been compromised by a self-replicating virus. Only the infirmary and life support were spared. It was a wonder the ship even landed. Giving chase was no longer an option."

Sparatus crossed his arms. _"Hmph. I don't put much stock in a report that claims that one Asari somehow melded with an entire planet and took control of it."_

"Not the entire planet." clarified Bau. "Just its VIPs and their subordinates, and their subordinates' subordinates. I sent suit cam footage from my armor and the Normandy marines of Ashley Williams when she fell under Benezia's control, as well as the soldiers' testimonies of hearing... whispers in the back of their minds the closer we approached Benezia's location."

 _"And did you hear those whispers as well, hm?"_ Sparatus was being patronizing, now, as if talking to a child.

Or a madman.

"I... Yes, yes I did," admitted Bau. He didn't care how it sounded. The facts were the facts, and he would report them as he experienced them.

_"Oh, wonderful."_

Valern cleared his throat. _"There are other things in that footage that bothers us. Hein's combat mech. It displayed a frightening level of performance, for a VI operated machine. Not to mention some... unusual abilities."_

"I believe the Prothean artifact, in a bid to defend itself from the threat represented by Benezia, took control of Hein's support mech and overclocked it to attack her directly. As for its ability to create a weapon, it accomplished this through processes not unlike seen in a modern day factory, though more efficient and advanced. A Super Omni-tool, in other words."

Sparatus threw his arms in the air. _"A Prothean artifact takes over a mech, and that mech creates a SWORD to defend itself? Why not a gun? Or a missile? Either of those things would have been more effective than a sword!"_

 _"It did prove effective in destroying her, in the end."_ countered Valern. _"Is the weapon still there?"_

"The Alliance techs are examining it now, but I've sent you their initial scans."

Valern activated his datapad and read the file. _"Ah yes. Super-dense Titanium alloyed with element zero... fascinating."_

Tevos, who had been silent for a while, finally spoke: _"Much like what the Nielsen Bioroid was made of. It appears we were correct. Saren was responsible for its creation using Prothean technology, and had Shepard murdered. The reason is obvious."_

While the other two councilors agreed, Jondum was skeptical. Saren was the obvious culprit, yes, but he had seen images - cross-sections of the Nielsen Bioroid's skeleton. Its metal was evenly blended with the element zero. The metal on the sword was... it was riddled with flowing, organic patterns of banding and mottling like flowing water. There was also the fact that Nielsen was apparently responsible for the deaths of quite a few Turians investigating human corruption. It didn't quite add up with Saren's anti-human agenda. Nielsen had killed human VIPs, yes, but there had to be another reason they were marked for death besides the fact that they were human.

Still, Bau did not voice those concerns out loud. He had little evidence to back them up. The Council had little patience for baseless theories (except their own). If the humans had understood that fact, then they wouldn't have embarrassed themselves so thoroughly in front of the Council when they accused Saren. And Bau had already embarrassed himself too much already with this mission. Benezia had been stopped, yes, at great risk to everyone involved. But an eccentric human had made off with the prize.

Sparatus continued. _"Let's get to the part where you let those UNAS marines get away with T'soni and part of the Prothean Monolith. Why didn't you just shoot them?"_

"I saw little point in committing suicide by antagonizing Terrans." responded Bau. "My mission was to deny Saren an asset. Benezia was dead, and Doctor T'soni was in no danger of being delivered to Saren. Antagonizing the United States Marines was not worth it. Thankfully, the Templar vessels forced the US dropship to land, and I was able to convince T'soni to come aboard the Normandy before, ah... she had a sudden change of heart."

_"You should have just taken custody of her! Physically restrained her!"_

"I couldn't. Intelligence gathered from T'soni's quarters - audio files from herself and her guardians - suggested she suffered from some sort of condition that made touching her... most unwise. Video evidence provided by Hein from his Mech's databanks confirmed the fact: any person that comes into physical contact with her suffers from some kind of psychotic breakdown. Fascinating condition..." Bau noticed Tevos shifting uncomfortably, which was, he decided, just as interesting.

 _"Then you should have killed her and taken the relic!"_ said Sparatus tersely. _"This... Hein is an unknown! Leaving T'soni and the artifact in his hands could have dire consequences for all of us! You're a Spectre! You have the right of life or death over everyone in Citadel space to ensure the success of your mission! You should have used it!"_

Tevos came to Bau's defense. _"A more violent approach would have made things worse, and we would probably have had to deal with political backlash from Earth. We do not want to wake the giant, Sparatus. Remember that. In any case, Hein came into contact with us and assured us that he would share any discoveries as per the Citadel Conventions. Even if he does not, he will eventually have to pass through Arcturus station to return to Earth. The Alliance will have to inspect his ship from top to bottom, and they will report to us. The consequences of their lack of cooperation would be dire."_

 _"And all in all,"_ said Valern. _"I'd say Bau's mission was a success. As he said, one of Saren's accomplices is dead and the primary objective is now out of harm's way. Losing her was unfortunate, but she is under the custody of a man that has so far been earnest in cooperating with us."_

_"Or so he seems," countered Sparatus, skeptical._

_"Bau, as far as we're concerned, your mission is over."_ said Tevos. _"You are free to resume your duties and deal with any threat to galactic stability you may find. Goodbye, and be well."_

"Understood." he took a slight polite bow, and then connection cut out. "Well, that could have been worse." he said to himself.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Anderson had been in his quarters while Bau spoke with the Council, waiting for the bandwidth to clear up. Once it did, he was finally free to speak in real-time with Admiral Hackett. When the confirmation codes cleared, the admiral's face appeared on the flat display set on Anderson's desk. He didn't look too happy.

"Anderson, me and the rest of the admiralty just read your report on this Spectre milk-run and well... we're not quite sure what to make of it. On the one hand you struck a blow against Saren we hope he won't soon forget. On the other... you killed quite a few Templars in doing so."

"Hostile Templars, working for Benezia, alongside the Geth!"

"We know, we know... We just got off the horn with Grand Master Saman. He actually wants us to relay to you his gratitude in 'doing God's work'. Apparently Bafford and his men had fallen under 'alien influence' and gone rogue, then decided to take the Prothean artifact to sell to Saren. I'm inclined to believe him... Although how Bafford managed to get Templars to work with Asari and rogue AIs, I have no idea..."

"Bau has one. He believes that Benezia brainwashed Bafford and the other Templars, somehow. Knight-Commander Vael supported the claim."

Hackett snorted a little. "Right. Psionic device. Next Bau will be telling us the Greys are real."

"I was skeptical at first, too. but... having seen what Benezia could..."

"Careful, David. You really, REALLY don't want to start talking about space magic, not after this."

"Excuse me?"

"You let HEIN walk away with Doctor T'soni. The whole reason we let you and Bau go on this milk-run was to allow us access to her valuable expertise! Not only that, you let T'soni just leap off your front door into Hein's waiting arms, with the first Prothean artifact of its kind ever found as a bonus prize. You REALLY dropped the ball on that one. And while we can honestly say this is not a loss - a much better outcome than Eden Prime - the fact is that this is not much of a victory either. You start talking about psionics and your career's going Section 8."

"And what was I supposed to do? Shoot American soldiers?" Anderson had, in fact, been sorely tempted to do it. Grey's sudden betrayal had stung - hard. He had respected the man for surviving Akuze, and Shepard had been vocal about her admiration for him. But at the bottom of the Pit, after that mech took down Benezia, it became obvious Grey was loyal to Hein when he pointed his handgun at Anderson and his men, and tried to make off with the Prothean tablet and T'soni.

But something bothered him about Hackett's statement. Technically, Hein and DARPA were connected to the Alliance due to the Ares Accord. Hein taking T'soni with him should benefit the Alliance.

"You don't trust Hein with T'soni and the artifact."

"Not since he just demonstrated the ability to compromise the security of our ships. We haven't heard a peep from him concerning those Geth Weapons we entrusted him with. And then you've got his attempts at keeping his presence on Caleston a secret... and there's that combat mech of his. That level of performance? The way it fought? Hein **must** be holding out on us, keeping Prothean tech for his own agenda. Let's just say the AIA wants to have a word with him, and I won't say any more than that."

"What are my orders?" asked Anderson. He secretly hoped Hackett would assign him the task of collaring the bastard to deliver him to the AIA. But he wasn't so lucky.

"The Council's about to decide on a new human Spectre - the other four candidates will be on the Citadel in a few days. We want our own applicant to be there to blow them out of the water, and the AIA wants the Normandy's assistance in extracting Jack-"

"Jack? You mean..." _Johann Ramsus. So it has come to this,_ he thought.

"Yes, him. As I was saying, the AIA agents and their assets are waiting for you at refueling station S-9. You'll be getting the rest of your briefing along with your destination from them. Anderson... this mission is classified Black. That means the Salarian, his pet Merc and that Batarian prisoner get off at S-9. Is that understood?"

"Understood."

"Good. Hackett out."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

In the Normandy's sickbay, Wrex was laying back on a bed while Chakwas checked his left knee with her medical Omni-Tool. His leg had been sliced off neatly at the knee, right through the cartilage. Had the blade not been serrated, the cut would have been clean, and he could have simply stuck his leg back into the stump, waited for his regenerative abilities to do their thing, and called it a day. As it was, though, a lot of flesh had been torn, and healing right required some medical assistance.

Sleeping on the bed over to Wrex's right was the Jenkins kid. Apparently he had survived his encounter with the Red Wanzer. The damned pilot toyed with him at the end, and decided to leave his mark on him by slicing at both of his eyes with a superheated blade, rendering them useless. Chakwas had said that if the Templar who did this hadn't been so quick Jenkins' brains would have flash boiled. Kid was lucky to be alive.

Wrex thought back to the skirmish, and impromptu amputation aside, he still felt pretty good about it. He had fought better than ever. He had felt younger, stronger, like the days before the scars started adding up and his livers shriveled up from all the ryncol. He had felt even better the closer he got to the weird Prothean device. But he had also started fighting like a young pup, and that meant he had fought a bit stupid, more with his rage than his brains, and he had let that damned crazy little human get under his skin.

"Interesting," said Chakwas, her scan done. "There's hardly any scar tissue left."

"What? Really?" Wrex was surprised: as good as a Krogan's healing factor could be, there was no escaping scars from grievous wounds. Still, it also meant that he would finally be able to leave the damned bed. "Oh well, does this mean I can finally leave? I'm getting a little restless, doc."

"Easy, there, there's still a few rehabilitating calisthenics we have to go through, just to make sure."

Chakwas proceeded to make Wrex flex his leg repeatedly, occasionally asking him how it felt. Then, she proceeded to palpate the flesh around his knee, checking for any tender spots. To Wrex, it kinda felt like a massage, and it was then that he noticed that human women looked a lot like Asari. Especially this one, with the soft firm hands and a body that held up nicely despite her advanced age, and the generous mouth and then he realized that it had been a very long time and...

 _Uh oh_.

"Nice tent, there, old man!" said Vega as he came in the infirmary, holding a plate of food. Wrex shot up in embarrassment and attempted to hide his throbbing erection.

"Aw crap crap crap - Look, doc, my leg's fine I don't need to stay here any longer glad you agree okay I should go."

Wrex stomped out of sickbay and into the mess hall, wearing nothing but a hospital gown, his ass exposed to the breeze. "You!" he shouted at the crewman at the kitchenette. "Where's the ice?!"

"Well, that was... something." said Vega as the sickbay's doors closed. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"He's going to be fine. In fact, the whole ground team is going to be better than fine. You, Taylor and Anderson... All the bumps and bruises you got fighting the Geth and the Templars are completely gone - and I barely used Medi-Gel on any of you."

"I do feel pretty good, now that you mention it. I just beat my record for pull-ups and I still feel like I could have done a hundred more."

"As for Jenkins..." Chakwas sighed, a little sadly. "Well, I'm afraid it's going to be a while longer for his knee to heal and his optical nerves to adjust to his artificial eyes. But he is healing, and quickly. Too quickly."

"How come we're doing so great, doc? You don't think we... you don't think we got a lungful of nanomachines, and they're giving us superpowers? I heard..."

"I know what you've heard, and no, you can't get accidentally nano-augmented." She shook her head. "If anything, you'd have gotten the Gray Death. Before you ask: I checked, and you're all clean."

Vega let out a sigh of relief. "That's good to know. But still, how come we feel better than ever?"

Chakwas shrugged. "I have no idea. I suspect the Prothean artifact might have had something to do with it, but its completely inactive now, so I can't verify that theory."

Jenkins stirred, and started to wake up.

"I brought this for him," said Vega, holding up the tray of food. "figured he might be hungry. Is that okay, or does he need a special diet, or something?"

"Rations are as clean as hospital food, so feel free to feed him. I'll be right over there at my desk, taking care of some paperwork in the meantime."

"I'll holler if we need ya."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Darkness. Darkness and phosphenes. That's how Jenkins knew he wasn't dreaming anymore. There was... something alien in his eye sockets, a bandage over his eyes, and he could feel something flow in and out through his optic nerves. The Medi-Gel, no doubt, making sure the tissue bond between his organic and synthetic nerves was perfect. He could also feel the medi-gel casts around his ruined knee and his reattached hand.

Yes, he was awake.

He always wondered what kind of dreams blind men had, but realized that he probably didn't count since he had seen plenty already. When he had been given that sedative before the surgery, he had expected to suffer through a nightmare. What he got instead was worse.

 _They were alive,_ Jenkins thought sorrowfully. _Shepard and Alenko... they were fine._ And then they killed Saren, and the Normandy would go on to have many more voyages through the galaxy. A ten year long career full of adventure and camaraderie had unfolded in an instant in the mind of young soldier. It was, honestly speaking, a pleasant dream.

The horrible part had been waking up, coming back into the real world, and realizing that Shepard and Alenko were dead, and that his eyes had been destroyed. No, Jenkins didn't want to be awake.

"Hey there, corporal," said Sergeant Vega's voice. "It's time for breakfast!"

"Sarge?" replied Jenkins.

"Hey now, no need to stand on formalities, you can just call me Vega, alright?" Jenkins could hear Vega set up a tray of food on his bed. Judging by the smell, it was...

"Is that package C?" he asked. "The one with the chicken-flavored paste block with the red sauce?" Jenkins really liked that one - heck, every soldier in the Alliance Military preferred them: every other MRE pack tasted either like cardboard or old socks. People fought over the things, and now Sergeant Vega was letting him have one.

"Only the best for the hero of the day!" said Vega cheerfully. Jenkins sat up, and Vega handed him a spork.

"You need any help with that?" asked Vega.

While Jenkins wasn't about to let himself get spoon-fed, the fact of the matter was that until that bandage came off, he would be completely blind, and that would make eating a bit difficult.

"Could you let me know if I'm poking food or tray?"

"Will do."

Jenkins managed to eat some of his meal well enough, with Vega occasionally reminding him that he was taking a spoonful of ice cream instead of food block (save it for last, he'd say). After a while, once he was certain Jenkins could manage himself, Vega got to talking.

"So, I got to talking with Lieutenant Taylor, and he got to talking with Captain Anderson, and we all checked out the Mako's black box... And we think you deserve a medal, corporal."

"What? Really?"

"Hell, yeah. You held off a custom Templar Wanzer in a Mako II a damned long time. If you hadn't forced him to unload his payload of micro-missiles, he'd have used it on us, and we'd have all been screwed."

"I uh, just followed Anderson's orders..." Being ordered to practically commit suicide by Templar had been... sobering. Jenkins hadn't expected that order to come from Anderson of all people, but he really should have. They tried to drill the notion that as a soldier he was ultimately expendable back in Basic, and that he should be prepared to lay down his life for the rest of his squad. He had been all too willing to do it, in the end. It had felt... oddly right that he should die, so that the other, better soldiers would live.

"Yeah, maybe, but it takes a special kind of soldier to execute that order as well as you did. Templar hardware is crazy powerful, and as much as I love the Mako II my first instinct in seeing a Wyvern would be to bail and call in an airstrike. And hey, you survived the encounter, so that counts for something extra!"

"I only survived because-"

"Hush, eat your chicken. Once the paperwork goes through you'll get a ceremony and everything. You'll make Ma and Pa Jenkins proud."

Jenkins didn't say anything.

"Err... Ah, damn, your parents were on Eden Prime, weren't they? I'm sorry."

"Oh, no... they were - I mean, they're still on Eden Prime, but they were in the countryside when the Geth hit Constant. They're helping with the reconstruction right now."

"That's good to know... so why do you look so damned sad?"

"...Well, I opted for electronic eyes instead of waiting forever for the folks at Europa Genomics to clone me new ones. Figured it would be cheaper, too, easier on my health insurance. But now that I think about it... I don't know if my parents will be able to look me in the eyes and see their little kid. I'm not even sure I'll be able to sit in the mess hall anymore. A lot of the Normandy crew's from Earth, and they got no love for anyone with metal or plastic stuck in them."

"Hey, I'm from Earth and I got no beef with war amps. Besides, the things are just temporary, right? They can always give you real eyes some time down the line..."

"Yeah, once I can afford them. EG ain't cheap. In the meantime..."

"In the meantime you remind everyone that gives you grief - even your parents - that you earned those new eyes fighting a Wanzer to save your comrades, and if that's not good enough for them, then send them over to me, I'll set the record straight."

That brough a smile to Jenkins' face. "Thanks, Sarge, I appreciate that."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams sat on a bunk bed (which was really just a metal panel, really) in the tiny, closet like room that was one of the three cells of the brig. The only way out was a thick door made of reinforced glass.

It wasn't locked.

Anderson had made it clear the circumstances that led Ashley to fire on a friendly and point a gun at her commanding officer had been... unusual. He had even confided in her that he left that part out of his report. He had simply written that Benezia had disabled Williams with her abilities before she could engage, which was technically true.

The reality, of course, was that she had been mind-controlled into shooting her squadmates. The Krogan, she didn't care too much about - he would be fine, after all. Ditto for the Salarian. Vega... Oh Christ, she had shot Vega - a superior - in the back with a shotgun. His Defender armor had taken the hit, but Ashley was haunted by the idea that if she hadn't been stopped in time... all her efforts in reclaiming her family's good name in the eyes of the Alliance - no, all of humanity - would have been for nothing.

And as gracious as Anderson and Vega had been, Williams didn't trust herself not to try and hurt her comrades. Benezia hadn't just gone into her head and assumed direct control of her body. She had tapped into that kernel of bitterness and hate Ashley kept suppressed, deep down in her heart, made it bloom into insane fury. That was all Benezia did. The rest was Ashley.

Was this how Saren would wage his war against mankind? Geth, Ashley could shoot. Same for pirates. But how was a soldier supposed to deal with an enemy that assaulted the mind, making an ally out of an enemy? Right now, the only answer that came to mind was her faith in God, and she decided to pray.

She knelt by her bunk, put her hands together, and recited a prayer out loud.

Her neighbor, the Batarian slaver (whose name she couldn't be bothered to remember) from the wreck they investigated, spoke up. His voice vibrated through the metal walls.

"I don't get why you humans bother."

Ashley ignored him, and kept praying.

"Praying without a sacrifice is a waste of time."

Ashley kept on ignoring him.

"You need to kill a rat on an altar, or something. Or maybe a rabbit. A varren! Yeah, that will do the trick. Your god will surely hear your prayers then."

Ashley kept on praying.

"They prayed a lot - the slaves, I mean," continued the slaver, sadly. "They'd mutter just as you did. It didn't stop Bassac from beating them, or feeding them to the Vorcha. I keep wondering to this day how people could be so religious and not understand this simple fact: All gods demand sacrifice. They're kind of assholes like that."

That got Ash talking. "I don't expect some four-eyed freak of a slaving monster to understand anything about God," she said venomously. "How can you possibly believe in God, doing what you do?"

"How can you believe in your gods, being a killer of people? From what I hear, your gods frown on killing."

"God guided my path to becoming a soldier to PROTECT people from slavers like you, and send them to hell where they belong!"

"And the Gods..." the Batarian snorted, "guided my path to make me a slaver. Funny how that works out, no?"

"Don't you dare use God as an excuse for what you do. You haven't got the right. You took on the job because you're an evil, godless bastard, just like the rest of your kind. You made your choices. God didn't."

"... I never asked for this."

"Excuse me?"

"I was twelve when the priests came to my house with a brand in hand, ready to burn a mark on my forehead. They told my parents that I was born under the right stars, that it was my destiny to serve the glory of Kar'Shan by bringing it slaves. My parents wailed, and cried, but in the end they let me get marked, because they feared the gods, just as you do. And once you get marked, well, there's not much else you can do for a living, you know?"

"I think your gods are fucked."

"I think your God is too damned quiet."

"What makes your gods any different, then?"

"Have you ever been to Kar'Shan?" asked the slaver.

"Sure. Great place, planning on retiring there." answered Ashley, sarcastically. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Of course you haven't." the slaver chuckled. "Well, let me tell you something. It's **beautiful**. Go to any of its cities: waiting for you will be ancient tall spires of stone covered in millions of turquoise chips. There will be statues of gold dedicated to the heroes of old. There will be fountains made of crystal, spraying glowing water into the night. There will be walls of black stone that have stood the test of time for millenia, and Jade tombs that even the most secular of warlords will visit without a thought to violate its treasures. But it was all built on a foundation of two things: slavery, and reverence of the gods. While the nations of the Hegemonies moved past those, the Theocracies never did, and their people spread the fear of the gods everywhere. You cannot free the slaves, the priests say. The gods demand sacrifice, or they will let the glory of Kar'Shan wither and die."

He sniffed, and Ash could hear him scratching his nose. Or noses. Whatever.

"And everyone believes them. After all, the wonders of Kar'Shan keep standing, and we have yet to be swallowed up by the insanity of the Terminus systems. Might as well thank the constant flow of blood that comes from the altars for our good fortune as much as anything else."

"You're only confirming what I already know. Every Batarian is a damned evil slaver! Your excuses, your reasons don't mean anything to me. And you know what I really, REALLY hate about you people? You're all so willfully BACKWARDS. I mean really? Slaves?! The rest of the galaxy moved on from the dark ages and outgrew the very idea of slavery, but you Batarians don't even _bother!"_

"Hah! You're entirely right! What use does the modern Batarian have for slaves, when he can buy a servant mech? Ask any Batarian on Kar'Shan how he feels about slavery, and he'll be disgusted. But he's also afraid. Afraid of the gods, and afraid of their priests. That fear will insure that he says nothing as Marked Men like me go off into the darkness of space to hunt and bring fresh meat for ceremonies. He can't help it. None of us can. The Priests have had a hold on our minds ever since we were children. Marked Men like me are brought up to believe that the horrors we inflict on the denizens of the galaxy are necessary to preserve our civilization. Most of us, though? We burn out after ten years of the reality of what we do. Some, like Bassac, learn to love the job. Others take to the drink. Some chew on a gun."

"... I don't believe you. I can't believe any good, decent people would stand for that kind of evil! "

"I've seen the Templars have done some pretty nasty shit to some humans all in the name of this God of yours. What are they called? The Omar?"

"The Omar aren't human - they're not even sentient, not anymore."

"Details. They're still from Earth. They still use human meat to think. That doesn't stop the Templars from tearing their brains out of their shells and tossing them in a pyre while their loved ones watch. _That's_ pretty fucking evil, and yet all you goodie-goodie humans let them do it. Why?"

"...They probably deserved it. You can't trust an Omar - they gave up their humanity, their souls, just to be able to live longer!"

"Yeah. I suppose you're right." the Batarian chuckled. "That's all it takes, isn't it? An excuse to look away, and let it happen. _They probably deserved it. They're aliens. They're heathens. I'm just doing my job._ Sooner or later though, you run out of excuses... Maybe that's why the Shadow spared me. Because I was out of excuses, and there's no fooling myself anymore. I don't know." he sniffed again. "I just don't know."

"Hmph. Nice try. You think the fact that you feel bad about your career of rape and pillaging will stop our courts from giving you what you deserve? Let's be real here, no amount of piety and regret is going to sway them."

"... That's fine," said the Batarian calmly without a hint of fear.

"You can't be that okay with it." replied Ash, a bit annoyed.

"I crossed the Shadow's path three times. Twice on Elysium. The first time, he had just murdered a Krogan Warlord and his sons while they slept. He looked straight at me, and ran. Nobody that went after him came back alive - we found their bodies in the woods. The second time, I was part of a flanking maneuver that would have broken the Elysium militia's defense, with the Butcher - a yahg - at the head of it. Do you know what a yahg is?"

"No."

"Think Krogan, but even bigger, and even more teeth. And the Shadow - oh gods - he stood alone against us, and the Butcher had a score to settle with him, came at him all roars and fury. Next thing we knew, the Shadow took the Butcher's cleaver and buried it into the monster's face. Then he started cutting us down, fading in and out of the darkness. I survived that encounter by running like hell. The third time? The third time you know all about already. He spared me at the end. You don't survive a spirit of vengeance three times unless the gods have a plan for you. If that plan involves rotting in an Alliance prison, so be it... What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Once your tour is up. What happens to you?"

"Why do you care?"

"Do you think you can stop being what you are? Do you think you can live amongst the innocent, knowing that you're a trained killer of men? That you lived, while others died?"

Ashley thought the question was utterly ridiculous. Plenty of soldiers came back from the service perfectly capable of leading civilian lives.

...

_Little Ashley opened the door to the kitchen, and Grampa was there, and there was a bottle of the stuff mommy said she couldn't drink, and there was a gun, and Grampa was resting his head on the table._

_Ashley didn't understand why Grampa was crying._

_Was he hurt?_

_Was he sad?_

_"Grampa, are you okay?" she asked._

_"I couldn't stop them." he sobbed. "I couldn't stop them..."_

_..._

"I... I can always go home. I have family waiting for me."

"...Good. Good for you."

Before she could ask anything about what he meant, before she could ask more about this 'Shadow', Ash's cell door opened, and Lieutenant Taylor stepped in inside. Ash, following protocol even as a prisoner, stood at attention and saluted.

"Chief." said Taylor. "I've had enough of your self-flagellation **bullshit**. Get the **fuck** out of your cell and get to work - that's an order."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Jacob Taylor had just gotten Williams out of lockup when he decided to visit the CIC. He had read her file, and based on her scores and the crap assignments, it was pretty obvious she had been blacklisted for some reason, and the reason was her family name. Apparently, General Williams had grandchildren, and one of them decided to carry on a military tradition that spanned four generations, eager to restore the honor of her family through sheer determination.

What an idiot.

Not that he didn't empathize with her plight, but it took a special kind of fool to enlist in an organization that had it in for your entire family, and of your own free will, too. In anyone else, he might have found it admirable, but it was obvious this Williams was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice just so that they'd stop badmouthing her dead grampa. He couldn't respect people like that - people that lived to make up for the sins of their fathers. Williams should have picked another career, and he suspected she would be much happier for it, too.

Come to think of it, Jacob himself never had much of a choice in enlisting. Sure, nobody twisted his arm into joining the Alliance military, but who the hell would hire a biotic for anything? Discrimination against those with the misfortune of being born with element zero in their nervous system were simply not welcome anywhere. Tolerated, sure, but tolerance had limits. Only the Alliance offered biotics a living. All you had to do was submit to painful surgery, and draw the ire of everyone on Earth for being a chip-head on top of a freak.

...

_"Ah, jeez." said Kim. "They really don't want us to be here."_

_Jacob looked out of the bus' window. On each side of the entrance of the Rio de Janeiro training facility for Biotics. There was a mob of protesters booing them and holding up signs calling for them to leave, some even called for their deaths. CHIP HEADS GO HOME was written on one. Another said ZERO BABIES SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABORTED. It was held by two very obese and very angry women. Jacob wished he could tell them that he didn't want to be here. He wanted to be an athlete, make a go for the olympics. He didn't want to be a soldier. He didn't even want to be a Biotic. But here they were, acting as if that was his fault somehow._

_"Goddamnit. You'd think we'd have outgrown that kind of behavior." said Jacob. "That we had left it back in the twentieth century where it belongs. But no. There it is." Jacob sighed. He seriously hoped that no one in the mob would start throwing shit at the bus._

_And then the Molotov exploded against his window._

...

He decided to put the whole Williams situation out his mind - thinking about it was only going to remind him of his own past. He thought instead he'd have a look at the Normandy's CIC before he would inevitably be reassigned by Command to a Biotic-only unit. He was on-board the Alliance's very own stealth frigate, the proof that the Alliance no longer needed to police human space with Terran hand-me-downs. Might as well take in the sights of the pretty lights while he still could.

The navigator, Pressly, eyed Jacob curiously, and then nodded at him.

"Lieutenant Taylor. Can I help you with anything?"

"Nah, I'm just taking in the sights. And don't worry, I know you sailors feel uncomfortable when the leathernecks start fiddling the dials. I won't touch anything, promise."

Pressly smiled. "Ah, well, I couldn't blame you if you did. The Normandy's is a marvel, isn't she? Say, I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. It's not everyone that could go in a heavy risk situation like the one on Caleston and come back alive. Hope you showed the two aliens how it's done."

"Yeah, we came out alive... but the prize went to this Hein weirdo."

"Caleston was on the edge of becoming another Elysium, from what I heard. Seeing as the colony isn't on fire, I'd say that's a victory." He sighed. "It's a lot better than what the poor bastards on Elysium got."

"I take it you were there?"

"I was serving aboard the Agincourt, a heavy frigate, some hand-me-down from the OCU. Still a good ship, though. Tough as nails. It was in high orbit above Elysium when the Blitz hit. Just us against a hundred junky pirate cutters and corvettes, and dozens of transports."

"Bet they were no match for one Terran frigate though, right?"

Pressly was quiet for a while, then spoke. "Well, pound for pound, that's true, but... we were outnumbered. And we weren't the target at the time. It was a full-blown planetary assault, and the Agincourt didn't have the speed needed to intercept them all. Or the right weapons for the job."

Pressly took a deep breath, then continued:

"We tried frying them with our GARDIAN lasers, and we got plenty of them, sure. But the rest were too numerous and too spread out in the atmosphere. The blooming reduced the lasers' effectiveness, and we could barely hurt them. Our main gun was no use: Those small ships were too fast and gave those transports good cover. The cutters were right on top of every major settlement when they dropped those black gas bombs. Our comms officer couldn't keep track of all the distress signals we were getting from the surface. An hour later, the screaming started. Three days later, the pirate ships that had landed all over the cities opened up, and the pirates started kidnapping survivors. Before we could send any help, the AIA and Command declared Elysium a Black Rock to be quarantined. Nothing came in or out of Elysium alive."

"And meanwhile," added Jacob, "Haliat's fleet of frigates capitalizes on the terror to starts hitting high-value Alliance targets all over the Verge. Tied up the ninth fleet for three goddamned months."

"Yep, they didn't call it the Blitz for nothing. It's a good thing Calhoun Reynolds tied up the Pirates on the ground the way he did. Otherwise the Blitz would have been a complete success instead of the catastrophic failure it turned into."

"How did he manage that?"

"Guerrilla warfare, naturally. Kept hitting them where it hurts. Sabotaged many of their ships, freed any captured slaves."

"I find that hard to believe. No offense to Reynolds, but he couldn't have stopped a hundred ships from making off with those slaves."

"Well, that's true, but when we started tapping into the pirates comm chatter, something... interesting had happened."

"Oh?"

"Haliat had this Turian woman - Tavion, I think - lead the slave run on Elysium. She died two weeks after the Gas Bombs hit, apparently assassinated. Her girlfriend, an Asari called Aleena, wanted the head of the one responsible. Wouldn't leave without it. Couldn't be convinced otherwise. We'd pick up more and more chatter, and we could tell, those pirates? They were getting scared. Said some kind of shadow was stalking them in the night. Eventually it was Aleena's turn to die - and good riddance too. Of course, Haliat gets wind of his two top lieutenants dying and hits Elysium again full force intent on extracting revenge. We were ready this time, though. He didn't have orbital superiority for long before the 9th fleet got its shit back together and engaged his pirate fleet. It was a hard-fought battle, but we won."

"I still don't get why it took the AIA so long to lift the quarantine..."

"I _know_." Pressly resisted the urge to spit. "I swear to god it's as if they WANTED the genocide of Elysium to be complete. Thank god for Junko 'fuck that noise!' Shepard, eh?"

Jacob smiled. Shepard decided to take the _Hong Kong's_ entire Marine detail to Elysium's surface via Drop Pod, defying the Black Rock order. Other ships defied the AIA order and deployed their own drop pods, and before long Haliat's ground forces were surrounded on all sides. It was one for the history books, and the start of Shepard's legend.

"It's a damned shame they couldn't pin a medal on her for disobeying orders like that." said Pressly wistfully. "Damned AIA bastards. If I ever meet one again it'll be too goddamned soon."

Jacob wisely decided to change the subject. "Whatever happened to Reynolds?"

"Oh, he got a **chest** full of medals. Damn shame he quit the service though."

"What? That's the first I heard of it."

"I saw him at a bar some six, or seven months after the Blitz. He was really, really drunk, and started shouting obscenities, calling the Alliance some pretty nasty names."

Jacob nodded empathetically. "It was pretty rough on the ground, and with the fleet just sitting there, being no help at all, it's no wonder he quit."

"I dunno... He was also rambling something about how the Alliance were a bunch of ungrateful bastards and that they stabbed the true heroes of Elysium in the back. I still don't know what he meant by that. Oh well, the survivors elected him Sheriff, so he's still got that going on for him, at least."

Jacob realized he had been just standing there. "I should go and let you get back to work, Mr. Pressly. Didn't mean to bother you."

"Oh, it's no bother. I'm always keen to share war stories."

"Maybe one of these days I'll tell you one."

"Looking forward to it."

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

In the Normandy's CIC, Anderson climbed onto the podium that allowed him to view the entirety of the Navigation holographic pit. He double-checked the digital roll-call: everyone that was supposed to be on-board was on-board. He set the controls for the intercom to cover the entirety of the ship (save for the brig, naturally), and addressed the crew.

"Everyone, this is the captain speaking. We will soon be departing Caleston on our way to refueling station S9 to pick up a team of AIA agents on their way to a sensitive mission. I know many of you have been dreading this day, but since the Normandy is the first stealth vessel of its class in peacetime, supporting AIA spooks was inevitable. And having worked with the AIA before, I know how pushy they can be. Just remember one thing: If they want anything done aboard this ship, they have to go through me first. Politely remind them that they're _not_ part of the chain of command. That is all."

He switched the comm over to the helm. "Joker. Lay in a course for S9 and take-off immediately."

 _"Aye-aye, sir."_ replied the helmsman. _"ETA: Seven hours."_

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Sovereign was hungry no longer.

That was good, Saren thought. The construct was a difficult thing to control even when its thirst for Anima was sated. Starved, it became a ravenous beast that obeyed only its desires. It cared nothing about numbers or defenses, and that made it vulnerable. No, Sovereign wasn't powerful enough yet to start a rampage. But devouring the half-million or so humans on Caleston would provide the Sovereign's brain the necessary boost to alter it's form into something... beautiful. Invincible. Unstoppable. Yes.

Saren stood on a ring-shaped platform over a sphere at the bottom of an eighty-meter tall pit. At the center of that pit, along its height, was a floating screw-shaped pillar that rotated slowly, its three separate parts emitting a field that funneled thousands and thousands of red wisps of light - Anima that Sovereign saved for the sake of his creator, his true creator, not the fools that believed Sovereign was little more than a extremely complex processor to be plugged into their war machine. The red light contrasted with the dark blue gloom, highlighting every object in the chamber in bright crimson.

Saren mediated on the slow work of the machine, and occasionally, he could hear the faint screaming of the hundreds of thousands of humans that perished in the attack. The sound lifted his spirits up a great deal, which was good, because Wreav was coming up behind him, bearing bad news.

"The old bitch is dead," said the huge Krogan. Thanks to his physiopharmaceutical augmentations, Wreav stood at nearly three meters tall, and his dense muscle mass made him weigh in at a ton. He was a giant amongst Krogan now, and without his brother to oppose him, he was now Warlord of all Tuchanka. Occasionally he had to make a trip to his home planet to remind the clans who was boss (and put the females back in their place, as he liked to say). But now he was back on the Sovereign, and in his place it meant he answered to Saren.

"I know." said the renegade Spectre, impassively. "I am more concerned about the Masque. Is it intact? Can we still recover it?"

"Judging from the footage from the Geth Stalker transmitted back to us, that's a big no. The Alliance is all over the place, anyways."

"Hmph. What a shame." Benezia had been useful in relieving stress. As for keeping her Asari Commandos under control, steps had already been taken. It was unfortunate that Benezia's daughter, along with the Prothean artifact, was denied to him, but no matter. Horizon had offered him more than just food for Sovereign. The other fragment of the Shibboleth - an insane human girl named Talitha - had been secured and put into stasis along with Manuel. In that pod she would sleep, until he would be ready to put the key back together. One step closer to the return of Nazara.

"The robots left a copy of the footage in your ah, _throne room._ Or whatever it is. _"_

 _"_ Good. I shall review it later." Saren was indeed curious as to how exactly Benezia had been brought low. Even without the Masque her Biotics were something to be feared.

"Hey, what the hell is this crap?" asked the Krogan, pointing at the flow of red energy. A wisp escaped the machinery, and Wreav tried to catch it in his hand. He shivered, no doubt feeling a rush of memories coursing through his mind in the blink of an eye. He would retain nothing of the experience, of course.

"That," answered Saren. "Is Anima. It is the energy that drives all sentient life."

"Energy? Is this thing a battery, or a reactor?"

"Of a sort. Not electrical, of course. The Sovereign's electronics and machines use power from the anti-matter reactors elsewhere on the ship. But its mind requires a different form of energy."

Judging from Wreav's expression, he still didn't quite understand. Saren continued. "Tell me, Wreav, would you agree that all that lives, eats?"

"Yeah. It's eat or be eaten on Tuchanka. Or anywhere else, if you think about it."

"Do you believe in the existence of the soul?"

"The Shamans back home drilled that into my head, so yeah."

"Have you ever wondered what souls eat?"

"Err... can't say that I have."

"The answer to that is simple. Time."

"Souls eat... time?"

"Time, events, stories... _experience._ All these gather and swell around a soul like cytoplasm around a nucleus. Once the soul is... discarded, all that is left behind is Anima. This machine gathers it."

"What the hell for?"

"The Sovereign's brain doesn't operate on the same principle as a computer, or even our own brains. It is... a spiritual emulation of a computer. An energy construct. Electricity will not allow it to function. Like all living things, it needs to eat to live, to function."

"Yeah... I think I get it now. " said Wreav... but it was obvious he was struggling to understand. Saren now realized how badly he would need a replacement for Benezia: discussing the higher mysteries of the Protheans with a Krogan would be a trying experience, he could tell.

"So," continued Wreav. "Sovereign is saving a snack for later, is that what this sphere is for?"

"Not quite. This... is for my own use."

"What use do you have for this crap?"

"It is an offering. All gods demand sacrifice." said Saren mysteriously. "And if I want to destroy mankind - completely and utterly erase them from the fabric of the universe - then I will need the favor of a God. And I plan on making a very good offering to get it. Now, we have some other business to talk about."

"Oh?"

"I have gleaned the location of another piece of the Shibboleth. It is on Noveria."

"Not a fan of the cold, Saren."

Saren glared at Wreav, and the Krogan immediately remembered who was in charge, here.

"You will go there and retrieve the human. Her file has already been sent to your Omni-Tool. Take as many Geth platforms and Krogan clones as you need."

"For a milk run?"

Saren glared at him harder. "I lost Benezia to what was supposed to be a milk run. This is far more important and I have no idea what you might encounter besides corporate security... Something is moving against me, I can feel it."

"Hey, whatever you say."

Saren dismissed Wreav, and left the Anima Chamber an hour later. It was time to speak to his... 'sponsors'.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

In Saren's communication room, three obelisk-shaped floating holograms, each with a number, spoke to him as if they were his masters. That's because they thought they had him under control. Oh, they were correct, but not quite to the extend that they thought. The others were not present, apparently they were busy with some other plots.

 _"Explain yourself."_ asked the warped voice of hologram 01.

"I merely played my part in the scenario." answered Saren coolly. "I am to set the outer Terran colonies on fire, am I not? I have done just that: I've just served up another bloodbath to stir earth up in a frenzy."

 _"We are talking about CALESTON!"_ accused 03. _"Benezia, with the help of your Geth, completely ruined our operations on the planet! Thanks to her the ruins are now partially destroyed and under control of Alliance elements not completely under our influence!"_

"A Prothean relic, you say? I had no idea."

_"Don't play dumb!"_

"Perhaps you should make me privy to your comings and goings, then, so that this sort of thing doesn't happen again."

 _"You know we cannot do that."_ said 02. _"We all have our parts to play. You have yours."_

 _"And none of this would have happened in the first place if you hadn't strayed!"_ added 03 _. "Let US handle the Prothean relics! You focus on your campaign of terror! Freedom's Progress and Ferris Fields have yet to be erased from the map! Their brazen independence is giving the other colonies ideas! The longer they exist, the harder it will be for our plans to reach fruition!"_

 _"Do not stray from the scenario again, Saren,"_ warned 02. _"What we give..."_

Pain shot up Saren's artificial arm, and it stopped moving entirely. His artificial heart stopped along with it, for just a moment, and then started beating again.

_"We can take away... Whenever we wish."_

"Speaking of roles..." said Saren, doing his best to seem unfazed - curse that killswitch! He knew he would have to get rid of it before putting his own plans into motion. "...I'm fulfilling mine just fine, but I do wonder when my so-called arch nemesis is due to arrive? I heard the leading woman has had an unfortunate... accident."

 _"Do not be concerned. Shepard was never our first choice."_ said 01. _"Our primary unit is ready. He will soon be granted Spectre status and will be mobilized against you."_

"And what of the other Spectre candidates from Earth's nation-states? Are they under your control as well?"

 _"No, but the good Doctor will be dealing with them shortly."_ said 01. _"Their... replacements will aid the Primary unit in 'stopping' you."_

"Hmph. I'll try to make a good show out of it."

 _"Not too good a show, and not too quickly."_ said 02. _"Remember, we need to build up his legend before we martyr him."_

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

With little else to say, The conference was done with quickly, and Saren retreated back into the Shrine. He reviewed the Caleston footage sent to him by the Geth. Apparently a team of mercs, working in parallel with an Alliance team led by Jondum Bau, had carved two paths of slaughter to where Benezia had been preparing to make a grab for power. No doubt to take control of Sovereign and the Geth armada, Saren suspected.

Things got very interesting when Benezia fused with a Wanzer and became a powerful war machine. Were it not for the unyielding materials used by the Protheans, the mercenaries and the alliance marines would have been without cover and perished under blasts of dark matter and plasma. Saren scratched his chin in interest. It seemed the Prothean artifact Saren gave to Benezia had some features not known to him at the time. Perhaps he should look into grafting some Prothean technology into himself, if only to break free.

Then the footage showed the Prothean Relic taking direct control of one of the mercenaries, the one in the black armor, and proceeded to slice Benezia into ribbons after pummeling her into submission with repeated Biotic Charge strikes.

"Stop," Saren vocally commanded his computer. "Magnify, quadrant B."

The screen zoomed in on the figure, and Saren was fascinated. It was little wonder the Templars wanted exclusive control over Prothean archeological operations. Saren knew that if he wanted his own plans to succeed, then he'd need to redouble his efforts in acquiring the ancient technology before those human fanatics did. Otherwise, they could destroy the Sovereign and the Geth armada all too easily.

"Resume playback."

The rest of the footage was quite boring. The Geth Stalker had become far more careful, and with little else to do decided to try and escape topside to transmit it's data. Once it saw daylight, the video became scrambled. It had apparently been hit by an overload attack. Thankfully, it still managed to transmit its memory out into the Geth collective.

Wait.

"Stop. Rewind at timescale ninety-nine point seven. Magnify Center."

Through the static he could make out the sharp features of a pale human clad in a black leather longcoat, with his black hair slicked back, graying at the temples. He had an amused grin on his face, lit up by the orange light of an Omni-Tool.

It was him.

"Hein."

The memories of Shanxi and the death of Desolas hit Saren like a freight train. In his mind, he was back in that hellhole, watching helplessly as a dark gray lightweight Wanzer shot Desolas' dropship out of the sky with a well aimed burst of a medium auto-cannon right to the engines. He watched helplessly as the Wanzer tore Desolas out of the cockpit, and offered him to a mob of bloodthirsty humans. The Wanzer even went through the trouble of dropping an explosive pack into the dropship's guts, no doubt to murder the wounded inside.

Saren had learned who the pilot was. Saren had memorized his face.

_Hein._

"Hein." muttered Saren as he rose from his chair, seething with rage. Then, the anger boiled over and he roared in vengeful fury.

**"HEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIINNNN!"**

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

Hein sneezed.

"Caught a cold, sir?" Grey asked Hein, a bit concerned.

"Maybe someone's talking about him." said Aki.

_**~[h+]~** _

* * *

**MASQUE OF THE BLACK QUEEN - THE END**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Oh hi there Saren. I kinda forgot about you for like... 12 chapters? Yeesh.
> 
> For those of you who were somewhat put off by the Caleston's arc, well, the Noveria arc should become a welcome return to form. We'll be meeting Johann Ramsus soon, too.
> 
> Special thanks to Setokaiva for the spellcheck.


	6. Codex Entries, Various subjects

**CODEX ENTRY: EARTH: POLITICS: TREATIES: THE ARES ACCORDS**

_The Ares Accords are treaties signed by nearly all of the major powers on Earth, which obligates them to donate a set percentage of their land and space military powers to the Systems Alliance. Signed in 2150 during a time of rapid extrasolar colonization, the first Ares Accord was meant to provide the Systems Alliance with the necessary military might to maintain peace and order in the new and rapidly growing human frontier, and prepare for a possible alien attack. At the time, the four major powers on Earth (the UNAS, the EU, the Coalition and the OCU) were obligated to donate three percent of their militaries to the peacekeeping force._

_After the retaking of Shanxi, the nations of earth realized that the Alliance would be the first line of defense in the face of a full-scale alien invasion, and so the Second Ares Accord was signed by not only the four major powers, but Brazil and India as well (though they would only provide manpower). After much negotiations, the second treaty obligates a donation of twelve percent of the total military power of each nation. A third Accord is to be signed within the next three years._

_The Ares Accords have been the foundation of the Systems Alliance for the past three decades. Though the Alliance has recently managed to establish a decent military production infrastructure, it is still very dependent on Sol's industries to provide it with necessary manpower and hardware to properly police the vast territory of space occupied by various nations of Earth. Should any single nation suddenly withdraw from the agreement, the Alliance could potentially lose a quarter of its manpower and fleet due to resignation, or even mutiny._

_Political analysts predict that the next Ares Accord will only obligate the nations of Earth to donate another 2 percent of their military forces. This is due to the growing tensions between the OCU and the UNAS, and the Coalition with everyone else. None of the supranational unions are willing to commit their fleets to extra-solar activities in case the cold war that has been brewing between them becomes a full-scale conflict._

* * *

**CODEX ENTRY: CORPORATIONS: EARTH: EUROPA GENOMICS**

_A member of the WTO (or World Trade Organization), Europa Genomics is the main provider of Gene Therapy treatments for the Alliance military. Founded in Paris in 2098 to take advantage of a vogue of therianthropy_ _by providing affordable cosmetic gene mods, the corporation has since then diversified into other avenues of biotech, from growing replacement organs and limbs to making_ in utero _genetic corrections._

_Four years ago, Europa Genomics had briefly come under the galactic spotlight by buying out the Noveria Development Corporation, after the former came under heavy litigation for attempting to steal EG intellectual property. Since then, Johnathan Scholar (the current CEO of Europa Genomics) has spearheaded efforts by the WTO to develop Noveria. This culminated with the completion of the Dosadi Arcology, providing housing, food and entertainment for more than half a million people employed by corporations such as Tokugawa Industries, Panzerwerx, Standard Security Corporation, and many more._

**~[h+]~**

* * *

**CODEX ENTRY: EARTH: HISTORY: THE COLLAPSE**

_The Collapse is a period of economical, ecological and political strife on Earth that began in 2052 and 'ended' in 2060, although the repercussions can still be felt even today. It began with a sudden and unexplained shutdown of all global communications, which then led to panic, chaos, and starvation. In turn, these caused international tensions to flare, leading to the Five-Minute War, a brief conflict that would irradiate earth's atmosphere and plague a lot of its remaining farmland with nanite swells._

_This led to the year-long Fool's War, as all major countries, unable to feed their people and maintain a standing army, self-destruct under the strain of unrest and starvation. Over a third of Earth's human population had perished when the Clan Wars erupted immediately after the Fool's War, and would only end when the Oceanic Cooperative Union, an alliance formed by Australia and Japan, began to re-establish global communications. Having been spared the worst of the Five-Minute War, the two countries were more than capable to conquer the rest of the world. They started a swift grab for territory throughout Asia and the Pacific coast of North-America. In response, alliances were forged that would lead to the creation of United North-American States, the Coalition of Communist Nations and The European Union. A new Cold War began, during which civilization begins to return to normal. In 2064, the newly formed supranational unions agree to a non-aggression pact. Mediated by the World Trade Organization, the Treaty of Paris is signed, leading to a period of much needed economic and ecological reconstruction, but relations between the unions remained tense._

_The Collapse, and the events that led to it, remains a popular topic by conspiracy theorists on OZ and even the extra-net. Much of the actual events are shrouded in myth, as many records of the time period are spotty at best and downright conflict with known fact at worst. Many blame Helios, a rogue AI that appeared out of nowhere and took control of Hong Kong shortly before global communications shut down. Others claim that a sinister shadow organization brought about the collapse to remake the world to their whims. All believe that a man known as JC Denton had a part in these mysterious events._

_For other conflicts that resulted from the Collapse, see also:_

_The Huffman Conflict (2076-78)_

_The Luna War (2082)_

_"...It should be noted that the Collapse, while a terrible waste of life, has led to many, many interesting technologies. I don't just mean military technology. Our efforts in repairing the damage caused by nanite swells and radiation have given us insights into biotechnology, which in turn lead to advances terraforming that allowed us to make the skies of Mars blue and its equator green. We can create an entire ecosystem from scratch, and make any barren rock in the galaxy suitable for human life - or even alien life, if we were so inclined. That is a power the rest of the Council races do not have. That is the power you are about to see when you open these doors, kids."_

**-Edgar Hein,** _from his Biodôme de Montréal grand re-opening speech,_ _2182._

* * *

**CODEX ENTRY: TECHNOLOGY: WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION: MIDAS**

_The MIDAS bomb is an anti-matter weapon capable of disintegrating matter in a spherical radius on both a strategic and tactical scale. Considered a 'clean' bomb, since it generates no toxic radiation or even waste material. Besides those traits, a MIDAS explosion is not kinetic, making a tool of frighteningly precise destruction. In space warfare, this means that a kinetic barrier cannot stop a MIDAS explosion from disintegrating its hull and everything inside of it. In terraforming efforts, a MIDAS bomb is useful in creating artificial lakes. Extremely difficult to manufacture, it is believed there are presently only 300 MIDAS warheads in existence._

_MIDAS bombs are technically a Tier III WMDs under the Citadel conventions. The Turian Hierarchy is adamant about treating them as TIER II's, calling for tighter regulations on the weapons._

* * *

**CODEX ENTRY: HISTORY: TECHNOLOGY: MIDAS**

_In 2107, Doctor Emma Kramskoi, a UNAS nuclear physicist, attracted worldwide attention when she theorized a practical method of generating anti-matter as a source of clean energy. This theory drew the interest of the UNAS government, and in 2109 Project MIDAS, a programme with the goal of finding practical applications for Kramskoi's theories, was born._

_In October 2112, The first successful MIDAS-based prototype, a small reactor capable of powering an entire city, was furtively stolen by unknown parties, and several months later a flawed copy of the prototype exploded in a JSDF base in Yokosuka, Japan, creating a perfectly spherical void one kilometer in diameter. The incident sparked a major political firestorm, and it was not long that the other supranational unions of Earth would begin developing their own, weaponized versions of the MIDAS technology in response. A new arms race had begun._

_"I did everything in my power to make MIDAS technology unsuitable as a weapon. I believed I could stop history from repeating itself. I believed I could outsmart human nature. I was wrong. And now the whole world is right back to where it was: on the edge of mutually assured destruction. And it's all my fault."_

**-Emma Kramskoi,** _shortly before her disappearance in 2127_


End file.
